On any trip to an Atlantic City casino, you gain increased exposure to what I insensitively call the “wheelchair and oxygen” crowd. The senior citizens. The oldsters. Spending the money that’s deducted from my paycheck each week.
They are slow. Very slow. It happened that on this trip, I was behind an older woman who used a cane. She used metallic prop (the kind with the four rubber feet at the bottom) for each agonizing step. I bit my lip as she slowly inched forward..
And then it hit me. What the heck else are they supposed to do? Stay home? When I’m 80+, I’ll use any technology possible to keep me out of my bedroom. Scooters? Walkers? Heck yeah.
So here’s a blanket apology to the seniors for all the times I was silently impatient. Keep on keepin’ on.
Now, all you have to do is stop playing three slot machines at a time, and I think we can actually be friends.