Little Old Ladies

On Saturday we got up early to begin our "backroads only" adventure. We were both excited to be getting out of town and wanted to make the most of a beautiful morning. We ran through McDonald's for Ali's favorite drink - sweet tea. I needed cash so we hit the Huntington ATM on the way. It was out of order. Of course.

After a little bit of grumbling we figured there must be a Huntington in Tiffin, our next destination. Onward.

Getting into Tiffin we hit the first McDonald's so Ali could relieve herself of her favorite drink – digested sweet tea. Neither of us is very familiar with Tiffin so we wondered where a Huntington bank might be located. Not wanting to waste much of the precious day driving aimlessly around, we spotted a table near the restrooms where two older couples were sitting. They were laughing and chatting, sipping their coffee, so I approached them and apologized for interrupting but wondered if they might be able to help us.

Immediately the two older gentlemen were smiling, jovial and eager to help. They made silly jokes and quickly told us we were out of luck. The two little old ladies acted as though we had asked them to mortgage their houses instead of simply asking for directions to the bank. They glared, stared and generally made it clear that we were interrupting their breakfast with our foolishness. I smiled and we both thanked them for their help, making a quick retreat.

Now, I dislike stereotypes and generalizations, but could someone please explain why, as a rule, little old men get cute and little old ladies get pruney and mean? I know there are a million exceptions for Aunt Petunia and Uncle Wilbur, but I can't help but notice that there are so many older women who do not improve and/or mellow with age. Why is that?

I can only come up with one theory that makes any sense. I can't help but wonder whether older women have come nearer to the end of their lives and they feel unfulfilled and dissatisfied, so they take it out on everyone else. Women of my grandparent's generation generally spent their lives tending to others – husbands, kids, farms, houses and animals. Their lives were hard and no one ever really nurtured them. The demands never let up. The kids might have grown up and moved away, but after their husbands retired these women's lives didn't really change all that much. They still cooked, cleaned, tended and were responsible. 

It's as if their horizons have never expanded.

It makes me kind of sad. It also scares me. 

Imagine it – the McDonald's on Tiffin Avenue, in the year 2044, a table with eight old lesbians, sharing coffee. Some young man dares to stop and ask directions to the bank. Because there are no men at the table - gay or otherwise - to mellow the response the eight little old ladies reduce him to tears. He slits his wrists in the parking lot and we just laugh. . .

God help us. Is there an intervention available now??