Just sit down, you old cow!

 Okay, I am going to stick my neck out and tee off on a topic that is typically off-limits to public scrutiny.  Women and aging.   See!! I heard you all go “Oooooooh” as soon as I said it.

But don’t worry, I don’t intend to poke fun at cute little old ladies like your nanna or abuelita… I want to discuss the specific subsegment of middle-aged females, of the baby boomer generation, that seem to have trouble “aging gracefully” (as they say in the classics).

And no, this not a rant about plastic surgery or the rise of “cougars”, but moreso about something I am going to call the “anger-tude” that seems to be inherent in one subset of an otherwise lovely demographic.

Case in point: I’m on the subway. I have a seat. A lady gets on and has to stand, so I offer my seat, like any gentleman should.

But just as I start to imagine a chorus of beautiful, white-gowned angels singing my praises and a rainbow breaking across the sky… cue in their place instead, the unleashing of the vile beasts of hell!

Instead of “why thankyou, kind young gentleman!” this woman’s response is a viciously barked “I can stand perfectly well as the rest of you” (though apparently not form a proper sentence). That was followed by a giant tut, and a glare for the rest of the trip that could melt granite.

Seriously, you would think I said “hey you look like a decrepid old slag with one foot in the grave, you had better sit your artificial hips down before your frail, arthritic bones give way!”

So much for chivalry!! With causticly growled answers like that, they should call it “shrivel-ry” – because I am pretty sure that’s what my nuts did in response!

The great irony is that I am sure she spent her time 15 years ago teaching a young man the exact manners she now despises – just like my mum taught me! Which got me thinking …..I am sure my mum wouldn’t take your seat if you offered, but Mum would still thank you and probably think you are just the kind of boy my sisters should marry.

So for the sake of all the nice mums like my own, I will continue to offer my seat to be kind, but so help me God, the next time some ingrateful lady boomer protests about it, my response will be “no need to be rude, lady… do you kiss your grandchildren’s kids with that mouth?”

If I have to put up with your bitch-ass anger-tude, I might as well make sure the crime fits the punishment.

— Irish



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