Image by Proxyclick Visitor Management System on Unsplash.
So I’m in a restaurant that has the menu in QR codes. And my phone goes blank when I try to read the QR code. A helpful young lady says, “My grandfather has the same problem. He can’t do tech.”
Me: “That is NOT my problem. I read QR codes all the time. I even made a QR code for my book.”
Girl (unconvinced): “But a phone is different…”
Later I find out that there IS a problem with my phone. I get a data upgrade from Verizon. Problem solved.
And then there is the time I am waiting for a bus. A strange man asks, “Ma’am, are you all right?”
I respond, not very politely, “Why would I NOT be all right? I’m just waiting for the bus.”
No walker. No cane. I’m pulling a wheelie suitcase. And this is the 99th time I’ve been asked if I am ok or lost or need help.
The man gets angry though.
“I was just asking if you are all right!” he says. He obviously doesn’t know that less than half of all people who are “old” have mobility problems. Just a tiny fraction of people have mental problems. I’m fine. Just annoyed.
It IS true that my hair is frizzy so I look older. I also work out four times a week in a studio with people half my age. As I say in my book, I want people to look at my butt, not my face.
But I have to admit there are good questions.
One of the “are you all right” idiots gave me a free ride home in a cab. I didn’t say a word. I can easily afford my own cabs. I was waiting for a bus and she decided I looked cold and old and feeble. I was wearing an old but very warm parka. Maybe she thought I was homeless.
The Amtrak customer service rep offers to guide me onto the train in an elevator. I absolutely hate escalators. I have hated them since I was old enough to ride them.
So.I say yes. I actually say “Absolutely!” She even offers to push my wheelie bag and refuses a tip.
I decide not to talk about exercise.
In my book, I write about a dilemma when an earnest volunteer offered to move me to a wheelchair. I’d go right to the head of a very long line. I didn’t have the heart to say yes. Luckily the line moved fast.
When I do comedy, I also talk about that man who put his arm on me when I was getting off a bus with two bags of groceries. He explained he wanted to help. So why not grab a bag? “They’re too heavy,” he says.
Living in a city exposes you to the worst. It’s hard not to get mad after the 99th remark. Haven’t they ever seen an older HEALTHY person before?
I guess not….in my book (and in another article) I write about the fact that even medical professionals get this wrong. They only see unhealthy people of all ages. People who need help. People who totter and fall.
So I guess I am a hypocrite. When it’s convenient, I’ll take the help. I won’t explain that I have been scared of escalators (and a lot of stairs) all my life. I won’t point out that I can carry my luggage. I can’t always put it in the overhead compartment.
I’ll just get help, like I’ve done ever since I can remember. Nobody needs to know.
