I don’t know if this is actually weird or me just being self-conscious about my age.
I went to a Cajun restaurant. I’m dining alone. I order red beans and rice with a side of andouille sausage.
The sausage comes out in two big links.
I’m eating away minding my own business when the waiter asked me: “do you need help cutting up your sausage?"
Me: ‘" I’m good.thanks’“
Why the heck would he ask me that?!!
Was it my grey beard? IDK…
Just asking all my fellow oldies if they get asked patronizing questions like this? I’m new to the senior world. I just got my first senior citizens discount at IHOP a couple of weeks ago. Lol
I doubt that was the thinking. IME andouille is almost always served in bite sized chunks. For whatever reason the kitchen skipped that. So the server meant: “I see the kitchen failed to cut up your sausage as usual. Would you like me to send it back to be cut up?”
FWIW, I’ve been gray since I was 30. And now have the retiree white beard to go with it. Nobody mistakes me for middle aged. I’ve never had a restaurant server say something that sounded patronizing. Helpful or clueless? Sure. Patronizing? Nope.
Yeah that’s reasonable. I did think it was weird to bring me out links split in half like that. I was expecting bite size pieces mixed in with the red beans and rice.
Along with, twitches, pains, noises, and smells we all get aged shamed. At some point.
You did nothing wrong. I’ve always had the sausage within the red beans(chunks). Maybe the rice is served underneath. In the end it’s a mixture, for sure.
You shoulda let the server cut it for you. Maybe it’s their gimmick.
That is an odd feeling, though! I remember when I was 49 and was taking a couple of boxes of books out of the back of my car to take to a used bookstore, and a guy in his 20s asked if I needed a hand. I demurred and thanked him, but was surprised: if we were both in our 20s, he’d never do that, because I’d take offense. That was when I realized I was apparently getting visibly old! Fifteen years later, I’ve stopped worrying about it and started taking advantage of it…
Indeed. I wouldn’t even say “taking advantage” rather than just stating a fact. I ranted elsewhere about the problems I had switching license plates to the new car. After a lot of frustration and huffing and puffing and finally getting the rear plate fastened securely (how is it possible that screws that just came out won’t go in again?) I took the front plate over to a nearby oil change place and asked the mechanic who came out if he could kindly switch over the front plates, because I was old and not agile enough to get down that low with any hope of being able to get up again. I was willing to pay for the service but he declined payment, feeling that he was doing a good deed for an Old Fart. There is no shame in being old.
Some woman in her 20s stood up and tried to give me her seat on the bus a few months ago. I just glared at her and remained standing. I’m only 51, for God’s sake! I am capable of standing on a bus!
My wife and I just came back from quick trip to Detroit (saw Stevie Nicks, my wife a big fan, fie anniversary 41) and before driving home went to the Detroit Institute of Art (lovely place, the Rivera mural itself worth it) - we were looking for the stairs to go to the next floor and a helpful staff member, asked where the stairs were, guided us to the elevator … my wife politely said “thank you but where are the stairs?”
Walking around campus all day, stiffly (two spinal fusions over the decades) and with a head of all-white hair, students often say “sir” and hold doors for me.
I’m OK with that–even though it’s not needed. (I walk as fast as any of them. But I also grade their work )
I understand the weirdness of it, when one has been able-bodied one’s whole life, to suddenly be the recipient of an offer like this. I remember the first time it happened to me (in London on the Tube), but I also thought it was sweet to have a stranger want to do something for me. Being gracious in return doesn’t cost anything and makes the world just a little bit better place.
I get miffed when women call me “dear”, especially pretty young female cashiers, who apparently perceive me as a sort of grandfather figure instead of the virile stud of my self-image!
And how are we liking our food today, young man?
)