The worst thing to happen to senior citizens is well-meaning people. Even at 73, I like to think I still appear, if not young, then healthy and robust. So, it is very depressing when someone on the subway offers me their seat. With that kind gesture they have spoiled any illusions I have that I do not look elderly. Frankly, I would rather stand for a half-an-hour than accept the seat that I really don't need in the first place. Just remember with many senior citizens ego is more important than comfort or even senior-discount savings. So before you play the considerate and polite role, ask yourself, "Does this person really want to be offered a seat in front of all these strangers?" In my case the answer would always be "no". I recall the mirror of aging was first held up to me ten years ago by a cafeteria cashier who offered me their "golden-age discount". I knew then and there the rest of my life would include one of the worst curses of old age—next to wrinkles, grey hair, arthritis, and endless maladies—well-meaning people!
Thursday, December 17, 2015
Please don't offer me your seat.
The worst thing to happen to senior citizens is well-meaning people. Even at 73, I like to think I still appear, if not young, then healthy and robust. So, it is very depressing when someone on the subway offers me their seat. With that kind gesture they have spoiled any illusions I have that I do not look elderly. Frankly, I would rather stand for a half-an-hour than accept the seat that I really don't need in the first place. Just remember with many senior citizens ego is more important than comfort or even senior-discount savings. So before you play the considerate and polite role, ask yourself, "Does this person really want to be offered a seat in front of all these strangers?" In my case the answer would always be "no". I recall the mirror of aging was first held up to me ten years ago by a cafeteria cashier who offered me their "golden-age discount". I knew then and there the rest of my life would include one of the worst curses of old age—next to wrinkles, grey hair, arthritis, and endless maladies—well-meaning people!
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When a cashier at Publix called me "Sweetie" and
ReplyDeletestarted talking baby talk to me I was incensed. I said "I'm old, I'm not retarded!" She was devastated.
Which of course made me feel guilty. Apparently
this was her schtick with oler people and I guess
they need
(to finish the thought). . .the attention.
ReplyDeleteI would agree with you except for one thing. Knowing what a doll you are,, how could anyone not say sweetie.
ReplyDelete