Again with the unfair fights

This is a weird topic for me, 'cause it involves bashing an elderly person - not physically 'cause I don't believe in hitting strangers, and 'cause I'm too pretty to go to jail.

But let me ramble for a second: A week or so ago I wrote about an encounter I had with several angry young women at a roadside rest stop and how one of them behaved as if she were gonna swing on me. And all I could think then was how helpless I felt, 'cause I knew that if she did swing and connect there was nothing I could do. I couldn't have punched her back, even though she was at least as big as me. It would have resulted in me being outcast generally and clowned by every comedian out there worth his weight in salt.

That incident launched a few old buddies and I into a friendly debate about people who are off limits when it comes to fighting and criticism. We call it the "Unfair Fight Club."

We came to the conclusion that even if you are right you cannot release your fury on the following without risking figurative hisses and boos from society at large: children under about 16, people in wheel chairs, orphans, widows, and the elderly.

Especially elderly women. Most of us were raised by parents who used the mantra "respect your elders." And most of us accepted that people who were two and three and four and five times our age were just wiser than us by virtue of having lived longer than us. And so they deserve a measure of respect from us. But my grandfather used to dispute that. He insisted that just because you managed to survive a lot of years doesn't mean you're wise or deserving of respect. It could just mean you're lucky. One of his favorite sayings was "There's no fool like an old fool."

Yesterday afternoon I was sitting on the Metro Mover - again, if you're new to this blog, that's a free downtown Miami trolley system - on the way to connect with another train that I would ultimately ride to the site of an interview for an article I'm working on.

Now, I have long legs. And those trolleys can get crowded. So as a rule, if I manage to find a seat I sit straight up and keep my feet flat to take up as little space as possible. And I hold my briefcase on my lap.

So an elderly woman approaches, and instinctively I begin to stand and vacate my seat. But before I could get all the way up she sat on the window-ledge seat perpendicular to me. So I shrugged it off. Five minutes and two trolley stops later there was still no one sitting next to her on the ledge seat, so I lifted my briefcase off my lap and sat it in the empty spot next to her.

And she went off!

Her first words were "I want to sit there!"

I responded "I'm sorry I didn't know you wanted to sit there."

She replied, "No, I want to sit there now!"

I answer, "Either way, I didn't know that. I couldn't have known that."

She said "You should have guessed it."

Pause: At this point, I admit I'm getting salty, but I'm afraid to speak my mind, because, you guessed it: she was old.

I answer "Ma'am, if I could read minds I'd be buying lottery tickets and selling gossip tips to the tabloids."

She said "Well, I couldn't sit there anyway, because your legs are in the way."

I answer "With all due respect, my legs are directly in front of me and couldn't possibly be in your way in the corner to my left. They're not that long!"

She then said "You people!" and mumbles something else indecipherable.

I shake my head incredulously and - straining to bite the sharpest part of my tongue - say "I wish I could hack 'em off at the knee for you, but that's not gonna happen."

She said "Your education shows. Why can't you be like other people?"

She said a few more things and I answered each one with "Sorry, I'm not shorter for you." Admittedly, my tone grew saltier with each response. But my words didn't change.

Now, here's the funny thing: I really held back for one reason and one only - she was old!

And I couldn't bring myself to talk to her in the same tone and in the same type of words she was using with me. It's very strange, but had she been 50 years younger, I'm fairly certain I would have blasted her and called her a vile name or two for attacking me like that.

Based on a few other things she said, which I won't rehash, it was safe for me to assume that her admonitions about my education and me not being like other people on the train were racial digs. I know that's uncomfortable for some of you to read. But it happens.

Why though do we fear calling certain people out because of their physical condition (disease, age, weight, etc.) or their lot in life (orphaned, widowed, rich, poor)? Why do some people get a pass 'cause of those "conditions?" Shouldn't we feel comfortable putting someone in check because of how they're behaving?

I wish we were, 'cause if anyone deserved that salute and a harsh word or two, it was this woman who snapped on me yesterday. But alas, she got the Old pass.