Prepare to introduce your jaw to the floor.
My week of encounters with elderly folks continues. (Warning: coarse language ... post will not be to everyone's taste.) We arrived in Vancouver at the hotel where I'll be working tomorrow. After finding a parking spot we got to the elevator and waited beside a woman of considerable age and, judging by her clothing, considerable wealth. She glanced a hello to us, we glanced back. Subtle social interactions really are in my skill set though many would disbelieve.
The elevator openned and there were two youths, maybe 15 or 16, slouching against the wall. The woman said to them, is this elevator going up or down. One of them said through a sneer, "Don't be so retarded, this is the bottom floor." She said, sweetly, "Oh, dear, I didn't know." It was a large elevator so we were all able to get on.
Just as the door closed she looked at the boy who had spoken and said, "If you wanted to be both accurate and offensive you should have said, 'old twat'. You see, I clearly don't have a developemental disability, so something about my gender would have made more sense. Maybe, 'Droopy tits' or 'Wrinkle puss' those would have worked too. You see when you speak you don't want to be considered foolish."
The boys stared at her, horrified, I was dumbstruck, Joe turned vermillion. She wasn't done, "I understand the need to express anger or disapproval, I just wish you kids would be a little more rigourous with your name calling." The door opened and she called after them, "Remember, 'Old Twat' works too."
The door closed and she looked at us and said, "I'm sorry about that but I hate that word that he used. I always like to get them back."
When she got off we saw her walk away with a spring in her step.
I have a new hero.