Paul and I took my mother to dinner last night at a local steakhouse. When we got there, the restaurant was already full. There were probably 15 people waiting to be seated, all sitting on benches near the door.My mother walks with a cane so I had to help her through the door and up to the hostess podium where I left my name for the 40 minute wait. I turned her around to get out of the way and hopefully sit, but not one person got up to let my elderly mother sit down!
Realizing no one was moving, I steered her to a spot in a corner. We actually had to stand right in front of three men. One of the three was an older guy but the other two were probably in their 30's; one wearing a pair of red sweat pants in about size 50 and the other was busy texting. I looked down at both of them but neither would meet my gaze.
As I stood there holding on steadying her, I was calculating how far back I would have to step to land on the foot of one of the jerks sitting behind us. I also thought about stumbling backwards and landing on one of them. That wouldn't have worked because it would have taken Mom down, too.
At this point Paul, who had dropped us and gone to park the car, walked in. He looked across the way at me with a puzzled expression probably trying to figure out what was biting me. I must have had steam coming out of my ears, I was so angry. I seriously thought about looking around and saying "What the hell is wrong with you people?"
After we stood there about 5 minutes, a man finally stood up across the way and motioned us over. "There's a spot opening up over there, Mom, let's go sit." "I'm okay here, I can stand." "No, Mom, he's offering his seat, let's go."
The fact that 15 ADULTS sat there within 15 feet of my mother as I held on to her and she held on to a counter, just completely infuriated me. I’m still not over it. I sputtered 4-letter words for quite a while. Even after that man got up and let us sit, not immediately though, I still sat there glaring at them all. I really just wanted to say “shame on you.” But that would have just embarrassed her. In fact as I led her to the seat, she said “do I look like that much of an old lady?” I just said, out loud, "he’s being a gentleman, Mom, let’s let him."
If looks could kill, I'd be in jail.
