Little old lady

I never think that I look like a silver haired old lady but obviously I am mistaken.  On my way to Melbourne I was using the Qantas touch screen to get my boarding pass and luggage label using the touch screen that I have used previously with no trouble at all.  So was amazed when a young Qantas man came to offer assistance.  I had not asked for help, however, I did not want to appear rude so I patiently waited while he demonstrated how the machine worked.  I did learn something new so it was not a complete loss.  I may work things a little more slowly than others but I always get there in the end.  Once the young man had safely placed the luggage label onto my case I wandered over to the automatic baggage counter.  Just as I was about to use the touch screen and put my case on the belt another young Qantas person came over the did it all for me. 

Now I am not complaining about being helped, it was lovely to have someone actually give good service but I am still amazed that I look so decrepit that everyone wants to help me.  God forbid that I ever have a nap in public because I am sure I would end up on a defibrillator or some kind of heart monitor. I will be rushed off in an ambulance to a 'little old lady hospital.'

All that being said of course I have decided to play the ditzy old lady card whenever I can.  That way I don't have to actually take responsibility for anything.  I can get muddled up, give the wrong change, not know how to catch anything from a bus to a train and no-one will mind in the slightest.  They will just smile and tap their foreheads and shrug, thinking to themselves, "She is old, she can't help it, it is only to be expected."  So folks don't mind me, I am a little old silver haired lady; beware you will never know what calamitous thing I will get up to next.