IS STUPIDITY A LEARNED PECULIARITY?
I know I wasn’t always stupid. I have little pieces of paper, somewhere, that say I wasn’t. It seems I actually attended institutions of learning. And wrote and passed exams. That is what the papers say anyway. I apparently found the institution, found the correct building and the right classroom. Now, I get confused in shopping malls.
My memory that so often shames me, refuses to let go of one memory, a time at the Mic Mac Mall, in Dartmouth, NS. I exited the mall and headed to my car. No sign of it. I searched the parking lot for several minutes. Finally, I was convinced it had been stolen. I even remembered a shifty looking young fellow watching me park it. Before I decided to call the police, I asked another shopper walking to her car if she could see a red Camero-anyplace. She looked and then suggested perhaps I had entered the store from another direction. I reentered the store and exited by another door. There sat my car. Once seated in the car, I circled the mall looking for that woman who had made the suggestion. I could not find her. Why I searched for her, I do not know.
Many years, I have no idea how many, I have been driving. I don’t remember getting lost. Now, my grandchildren tell me when to turn left and when to turn right. I know that one of these days, one of them will say, “Grammie, maybe I’d better drive,” and I will probably acquiesce.
And, then, there is the humiliation in the grocery store! I am surprised and, I must admit, a little shocked when the young cashier, who really should be at grade school, asks me if I need help with my groceries to the car. If I can’t carry that paltry bit of groceries, if I may not find the car, should she be aiding and abetting me in getting behind the wheel, driving onto the street and becoming a menace on the highway?
Someone explained to me that this offer to carry groceries is store policy, proffered to all customers. One day, I may hide myself by one of the check-out counters, perhaps in the playhouse by the child-friendly one. Then, I will see whether the offer is being made to the pony-tail crowd. I dread to think what they will say if someone spots me crouched among the Lego toys and puppets while I glare at the cashier... maybe I won’t do that.
I curled once upon a time. They promoted me into the “Sundown League”. Then, after a few people watched us play -I thought to get pointers -it was felt that “Twilight League” was more apt. I guess they figured we were even closer to the end of the day than sundown.
I see advertisements in the newspapers for seniors to go back to work. I can still work. Maybe I’ll apply for that one at the pickle factory. I think I could sprinkle the salt over the tomatoes without any confusing comings and goings. If someone would find the vats for me...and devise a method to release the exact amount of salt.
I know people who frequent this site write but I can't find a Writing Group so i'm using the Blog section-please direct me if I'm lost. LOL. I hope others will share their 'jottings'.