Generation gapped

Got my hair cut yesterday, and my ego flattened. My stylist and the clerk behind the counter got into a discussion about ideal working music. “I like the place next door,” said the clerk; “they have one of those satellite systems, you can tune in 80s music or whatever.”

My stylist said, “Nah, I hate 80s music. Too slow. I like something I can dance to.”

“But there was dance music in the 80s,” I argued. “New Order? Depeche Mode?”

“Never heard of them,“ she said. “I was born in 1982. I was what, six?”

“Thanks,” I said. “Just trim away that new gray hair you just gave me, would you?”