Getting Older

I work in a basement that requires a security card for access. One of the doors opens to a mezzanine area that has a telephone on one wall. Yesterday I walked out and noticed a young woman in her early 20s fiddling with the phone. I walked upstairs and went about my business. A few minutes later I returned to find that a middle-aged co-worker of mine was letting the young woman in the basement. My co-worker told me, "I just had to teach her how to use a rotary phone."

We walked through the door and my co-worker asked me if I was old enough to remember rotary phones. I looked at the young woman and she had a rather embarrassed look on her face. "Yes. We had a rotary phone when I was a kid and, since my old man worked at IBM, we had a stack of punch cards to take messages on."

The young lady turned to my co-worker and asks, "What's a punch card?"

I'm, like, getting old.