The flight from Tasmania arrived around lunch-time yesterday, so Marilyn invited Anne and Alan to meet us at Central Station for a bite to eat and a chance to catch up. Robyn and her friend, Pam joined us as well. On her last trip, Marilyn had been to new eatery in the station and decided it was suitably up-market for our group. Sad to say, it was a bit disappointing: the food was OK, although a bit limited, but the service was pretty ordinary and the staff were in need of some serious training in hospitality. Getting a glass of flat champagne in the wrong type of glass was the last straw and Marilyn demanded a replacement.
Today we have nothing organised. We wandered across to the shopping centre this morning to get a few necessities. First, we bought a few bargains at Aldi and I was left on a bench to look after that stuff while Marilyn and Robyn went into Woolies. I hadn't realised it was the Oldies Bench and there was a procession of elderly, movement-impaired men and women who came to sit for a few minutes to catch their breath before heading for the car park, or the Disability Taxi. I happen to be using a walking stick at the moment; the doctors insisted I get into the habit of carrying one, frightened that a combination of wonky knee and aftermath of stroke made me liable to fall. The stick identified me as a fellow oldie so I was drawn into conversation about ailments and what a bugger it is getting old.
It was certainly a new experience for me and I gather that I'll be expected to become more social in my old age. I had always imagined I'd be a grumpy old man but that ambition might not be realised.
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