
It’s a kind of discrimination if you ask me. Ageist for sure.
I’m referring to the way some people would describe people like me as a “Grumpy Old Man.”
I am no such thing. And calling me grumpy makes me, well, grumpy.
For example, I was in the supermarket the other day and I just knew that the women (it almost always is a woman) in front of me a) wouldn’t start to pack until she had paid b) would then root for her purse which was in her handbag which was in a shopping bag c) would then try and find the exact change which she wouldn’t have and d) suddenly remember at the last moment that she had to get milk and had forgotten to do so and “won’t be a minute’ when she’d actually be a minute and 14 seconds. But I was very controlled, I counted to ten – actually, it was 18 – and said nothing. I even smiled at her. Through gritted teeth admittedly. But I still smiled.
And I went into a shop later because, well, I’d forgotten the milk. And the two shop assistants were chatting away to each other and ignoring me and the other customer who was waiting to pay.
Did I shout at them to have some f***ing manners? No. I coughed a polite cough and I was served. Eventually.
And I was also polite to the barman who, having deliberately avoided making eye-contact with me as I waited to be served, then served THREE PEOPLE who had come to the bar after me.
Did I make a smart remark? No.
But there are limits.
I was driving through Rathgar the other day. The lights turned red. Of course I stopped – which is in itself unusual these days.
Then they turned green. And the car in front took almost one whole second to move.
I swear. It was almost one whole second.
That’s almost one whole second of my life I’ll never get back. So, of course, I beeped him.
Well, I put my hand on the horn and left it there,
And he gave me the finger. Honestly. Some people have no manners.