 Image from theshelbyreport.com I have a confession. I'm kind of partial to charming old men and here's a perfect example of why that's so totally true. Today, as I got to the check-out in The Fresh Market, I told the cashier, "I never remember to bring my shopping bag when I come, darn it." She laughed, "Don't feel bad, honey. Nobody does. I have three in my car and I always forget too." The man bagging my groceries started singing Christmas carols while she finished ringing me up. "Oh no!" I exclaimed. "Don't start singing those, yet. We haven't even had turkey," I scolded him. He smiled at me. "Gobble, gobble," he said and made me laugh. "Do you remember when we were young and no Christmas things came out until after Thanksgiving?" I asked him. "I do," he replied. "We're old. Do you think you're older than me?" he asked, a bit flirty. "Not today," I said, winking at him. It was his turn to laugh as he handed me my bags. "Three bags for three times the lady," that last part he sang to me. "Would you like me to carry these to the car for you, ma'am?" "No, thank you. I've got it," I told him as I walked past him. When I got close, I said, "If I don't see you before then, have a Merry Christmas." This made him grin huge. "Sure hope I get to see you before then," he said. "Keep smiling, beautiful." That was an hour ago and I'm smiling still.
Many of the old men I've met have this way about them, a gallantry and respect for women that is frequently missing in younger generations. It was one of the things I loved most about my father-in-law. Without even thinking about it, he would take a woman's hand and help her out of a car, up a steep step, or whatever. He was a consummate "pull a lady's chair out for her" kind of guy, too. Of all the things I'm looking forward to teaching my grandson, this is in the top five. Perhaps I am getting "old" because I think those things are so exceptional. I hear the music of today, see the images we're bombarded with and it feels as if beauty and class have given way to trashy and assholedness. I don't like it. But those nostalgic pains will have to wait for another time because today I'm in my happy bubble, in part due to a charming old gentleman who put a smile on my face that just might last until tomorrow. May your weekend be filled with things to smile about!
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About The Author
I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter. Archives
August 2021
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