ADDING INSULT TO ‘ELDERLY’ B
EING offered a seat on a London Tube train is tantamount to an invitation to high tea with the queen. With the holiday masses, we boarded the Tube at Paddington, on our way to King’s Cross to get the Chunnel train to Paris.
My wife managed to get a seat, leaving me standing with two suitcases. Out of the blue, a spindly Indian youngster jumped up and in my face blurted: “You, of the elderly, can have my seat.” Me, of the elderly? Peeved, I answered: “Thank you, but I’m not that old.”
He obviously didn’t catch my irritation and continued with sing-song voice: “No, but sir, my parents taught me to respect the elderly so please have my seat.”
“Seriously, young man, we only have three more stops and I’d prefer standing.”
“Three stops are too many, sir. I see you are travelling so you need to rest your weary old body.”
“I can assure you, this weary old body can handle it. I’ll stand.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a buxom lady slipping into the proffered seat.
Realising his kind offer was falling on deaf ears, he reversed to what had been his seat. The sight of him landing on the portly lap, the shock on both faces and the repartee that followed were reminiscent of a Leon Schuster movie — enough to raise a smile from the usually stoic and disinterested Tube passengers.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, lady. Never was it my intention to cause you discomfort by my uncomely presence on your lap.”
“Yes, yes, alright,” came the muffled reply. “Just remove yourself off me, will you?”
“Oh, how ridiculously silly of me, lady. But if you would remove your hands from my shoulders …” She not only let go but also gave him a shove that had him flying back towards me.
With a sheepish grin, he said: “Sorry, sir, we meet again — this time under slightly different circumstances. Now if you don’t mind, may I stand next to you?”
“Of course you can, young man. But maybe next time you’ll stick to your seat.”
“But only when there is no elderly person requiring a seat. See, sir, I respect old people. My parents respected their parents who respected their parents. A proud tradition. By the way, if I may be so bold, sir, where do you hail from? Not from these parts, it has become clear to me. But if you do not wish to divulge this information, I understand.” “Not at all. We are from South Africa.” “Oh, jolly, good golly! You will probably not believe me when I say we have family in Durban. And they love it there. When I complete my university years I plan to pay them a visit.”
I was beginning to appreciate this guy and would’ve liked to continue the conversation but our station loomed. He stuck out a hand and said, “It was a big honour to have met such a friendly old person. Not too many of you in these parts.”
My wife, who had watched the activity from afar, still finds it hard to believe all that had happened between four stations. That’s understandable as she has never been a Schuster fan.
To me, it was a momentous occasion that added extra spice to our vacation. And not forgetting labelled a friendly old person by a complete stranger. — © Cliff Buhler
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