You know you’re old when you get off the plane in Mexico, encounter this welcome tiki bar, and all you can think is “I wish to god this was a Starbucks.” (Coincidentally, this is also how you know you’re American and the worst.)

You also know you’re old when the cab driver asks, “Have you been to Cancun before?” and your initial response is “Yes, not too long ago…” then you pause “Well…wait…let me see…” more pausing as you calculate “Umm…oh. Wow. It was 15 years ago.”

And then you cry into your Pepto-Bismol-stuffed carry-on.