Golden Years

While waiting to check in to Suite B at the doctor's office, I see a woman sitting there who's pushing 90 and still reading without glasses.  I am thoroughly impressed.  Impressed enough that I pulled my sweatshirt down over my yoga pants/ass so she didn't have to pause in her reading to lament the young women of today and our harlotry. I wait for the woman in front of me to check in, then she sits down; I check in and I sit down.  A few moments later, another woman comes in, doesn't even pause at the check in desk, just says her name and whatever test she's there for, then sits down.

One of the women greets the other by name and asks her how she is.  "I'm great! We all are, right? That's why we're here!"  The other two women laugh, and I smile into my book, because she's got a point: asking someone how they're doing while chilling in a doctor's office is kind of a gamble.  The "I'm great!" woman follows up her comment with "Golden years, my ass!" to more laughter.

This is social hour for the elderly.  I did not know this.  All three women start talking to each other and to the check in nurse about everyone they know (and their ailments), and it's like they all met for lunch at Perkins or something.  I was absolutely fascinated by this apparent subculture of our society.  Absolutely delighted to have something to look forward to in 50 years!