This happened back in early spring, but it’s worth the telling in my opinion, it still makes me laugh when I think about the incident. I am not likely to forget it either.
Prelude:
Being the son of a former Army service man from Vietnam era, turned productive business man, I was raised with certain understandings regarding “manliness”.
The relevant one pertaining to shopping. As I was reared, shopping isn’t a “manly” thing, so it should be done with precision and expedience, and no frills like baskets or carts. Basically, grab what you need and get out.
This has been my method, as learned from my father.
Situation:
The lady wasn’t feeling well that evening, and requested I make the store run, so she could cook. I agreed, even feeling the “ewww, shopping” creep up on the nape.
As always, I approach the establishment with revulsion, and make ready to do my whirlwind rounds, to minimize the damage accrued. I am doing my best “Jesse Owens at Krogers” routine, and anticipating an incident free sprint to the self check out, (I don’t mind self check out, it avoids standing in line being accosted by “girlie magazines” and that awkward conversation with the unentertaining person running the register).
Mind you, this requires some visual work on the reader’s part, to understand that in about seven to nine minutes I have raced through 21 isles, my arms, (wingspan six feet three inches), are now loaded with bread, eggs, bacon, milk, sourdough pretzels, butter, coffee, etc. I can handle the load well, as long as I am moving, weight/bulk less of an issue with speed. I can see the target area, just around the corner of liquid beverage isle, and literally I start counting the steps to my exit of the store.
Then it happens. I am stopped dead in my tracks by an older gentleman, wide brimming smile, cigarillo dangling from his lips, and bright alert eyes, almost boyishly charming. He passes a glance at my load, and issues a salutation. I must have “sucker for older people” written on my forehead, because he immediately starts to converse with me, most congenially. A bit of politics, a bit of weather, a touch on the economy, and the load I am carrying begins to strain my endurance. But I don’t move, even though I tried a few politely dismissive glances at the self check out. But I refuse to be rude to one of my elders, so with some deep breaths, and a few beads of perspiration on my forehead, I let him continue. I’m not joking here, it’s been about ten minutes, and he knows he has me, I just thought he was a jovial, amiable fellow who liked to talk.
No, it wasn’t that simple. Just as he winds down, he looks me dead in the eye, “Say, do you happen to have a book of matches, I want to take a smoke while the Mrs.'s does her shopping?”
Completely moronically, my brain actually indicates that I should attempt to shift the precariously held load in my arms, to dig in my pockets for a book of matches that I know I don’t have, and never have had, ever.
Then something stops me. His face changed. I notice the right side of his mouth curl. Is that a smile? Or is he in some sort of pain? Oh god, this fellow is prime age for a stroke, or a heart attack? Oh shit, I am going to have to drop everything in my arms, there’s something bad about to happen …
He sees my reaction, winks, and walks on laughing … I’ve been served.
This was official notice from the elder gentlemen’s club that young guys don’t always have the upper hand. Age and treachery will always defeat youth and skill.
I couldn’t help it, I busted out laughing. He held me there the whole time just for his own amusement of my attempt at youthful manliness.
I can’t wait until I am old and crafty like that, and have time in my day just to terrorize someone younger than me, just for pure self amusement … LMMFAO … what a riot.
Conclusion: Older people rock, quite totally, and deserve respect, because they’ve been around long enough to know the tricks … especially the ones you would never expect from them.
I find a bit of sadistic amusement of helping extreme positions held out on the limb just as far as they can go, and then hand 'em the saw…
Or perhaps we’ve always been old and mischeivous and we’re just catching up?
, it may be missing in places, but, I am attempting to patch it up a bit here and there. I am not sure why but, I think I should attempt to keep what is left for a couple more decades. 
I think it may be catching. check out Tent, and Faust and er um Well the other lady hides her dignity behind her skirts well.