MANNERS WAAAAH

You can tell you are getting old when you start lamenting the loss of manners in society. Of course, I was kvetching about this in my twenties, so maybe I should revise that statement.

Today, after a brief foray to Dollarama, I departed the store, holding the door open for a young guy with a baby carriage. He didn’t thank me, but what the hey, I figure that if I were wrestling a brute of a baby carriage (with dear cargo inside) I wouldn’t have time for the niceties either.

I was still holding the door when a young Middle Eastern woman with heavy makeup (think Elizabeth Taylor in her Cleopatra days) zoomed through it.

“You are welcome!” I called after her, cheerily.

Then, as I was still stupidly holding the door, perhaps still wondering why nobody had acknowledged that I was acting as ad hoc doorman/person, three young kids brushed past.

“You are very welcome!” I called after them, an a pathetic attempt to get some manners out of somebody, anybody, anywhere.

Just as I was about to give up hope, a white-haired man with a genial, round face (maybe Santa Claus on a break) walked through the door, and, obviously having seen the previous exchanges, made a slight bow, made eye contact and said, very gracefully, “Thank you very much.”

“You are very welcome,” I smiled back.

See. There is always hope.