Attending the Food Film Festival* at Kendall College, a friend and I rushed to the front doors only to have two young women ahead of us stand aside and open the front doors for us, an act of courtesy that touched us both.
At my advanced years, I have recently enjoyed this singular pleasure of having young people – particularly, it seems, women – opening the door for me as I dodder through. When they do that, I always make eye-contact, smile, and say, "Thank you!"
Less pleasant has been the response I get from women (and, yes, particularly women) of more around my years who allow me to open the door for them and then do not even offer a mumbled "Thanks." It's like I'm some aging livery boy, standing there like a dumb dunce doorstop, holding the door for entitled dingbats who pay such simple courtesies no mind.
So I ask that when the door is held for you by some well-meaning person, extend them the regard of a Thank You. Be courteous to the courteous. Is that so dagblammit difficult!?
Okay. Now, I'm all riled up. Time for a nap.
*Obligatory food reference
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