Because CKLD asked....here it is.
I think my biggest niggle is the fact that younger people assume us ladies that are getting on a bit can't do technology.
I sent my first electronic communication about 40 years ago. It was very rudimentary but it was certainly written message between one computer and another. My older sister worked in the computer section of a Government office and took me to work with her one day and demonstrated this magic.
I had my first dial-up internet connection at home around about 1995.
I can do technology.
A few of years ago, a well-known drugstore introduced it's loyalty card.
Handing me my card the assistant patted my hand and asked me, "have you heard of the internet?"
My immediate reply was, "I invented it, you know!"
To which she replied, "Really?"
"No not really (you stupid girl, I thought) but think about it. It's inventor was hardly going to be someone in their teens like you now would it?!"
I asked her if she would mind telling me how old she was. Seventeen.
I told her that I had been using the internet since just about before she was born and never to assume that just because somebody is older they are not as switched on as you think you are!
So fast forward (passing smartphones, tablets, self-serve checkouts and self-scanners) to yesterday.
The town where I met up with my sister has recently seen it's Post Office relocate to the upstairs of a well-known newsagent.
So, I'm about to go up the stairs to post a small packet and buy some stamps when I see a notice saying the Post Office was closed at that time. Hesitated and then saw people coming down the stairs and realised the notice was the wrong way round.
Bit of a queue at the counters. Don't like queues.
Self-serve kiosk things! Hurrah!
I know my packet should have a large second class letter stamp but I check it out to make sure. It's a little present and I don't want the recipient to have to pay excess postage.
Tick!
Next I buy my stamps. Enter the amount and the type and it's time to pay.
Easy as.
Except it wasn't. The Manager strolls over and starts guiding me in my transaction.
I tell him very politely that I can manage thank you and "Oh, while you're there the sign at the bottom of the stairs is saying you're closed."
At this he gets all uppitty and said it didn't matter about the sign as the barrier was open.
I said I could understand that but maybe some would be put off and indeed I had thought twice about ascending the Post Office stairs and thanked him anyway.
Next thing he's back to helping (or should I say, interfering) with my transaction.
I say it's alright, "I can do technology you know!"
He's clearly had a sense of humour bypass and puffs himself up to his full managerial height and says "for a woman who can't cope with a basic sign you've got a lot to learn!"
Gobsmacked! I now just want to finish my transaction and go. Pressed all the bits that needed to be pressed so I could get on with the business of paying, getting my stamps and get on. Waved my contactless at the contactless waving at bit. Deal done.
The stamp for the packet comes out and he pushed my hand away and grabbed it himself and said that because I had asked for proof of postage I was not allowed to put the stamp on myself as I could be trying to scam and put it on a larger packet and then snatched the packet, smacked the stamp on it and put it in the box.
By now steam is coming out of my ears!
My 6 first class appear. His hand got to them first.
He only bl**dy counted them. Like I could somehow scam more stamps than I had paid for.
By now steam was coming out of every bodily outlet imaginable!
And I lost it! Completely lost it.
I should have just walked away with my dignity.
But no! Post Office Nazi needed putting in his place.
"One day," I said. "One day somebody a good deal younger than you will come along and assume that you're old, useless and stupid. Just like you have done to me. Let me tell you, young man, (yes I actually said 'young man' >cringes<) I am far from stupid, I have more uses than someone with your obvious small penis hang-ups could ever imagine and I am certainly not old!"
At this point, judging by the number of people stood round watching and shaking their heads I realised that I'd probably gone maybe a bit too far.
He told me that if I didn't immediately leave the premises, he would have me escorted out (I am unsure if he meant by himself or whether there was a bouncer about to be released.
I turned to descend the stairs and leave but not before ranting about when he returned to his sad-and-lonely-single-man-bedsit-that-was-probably-as-skanky-as-his-attitude that he might take time over his lonely microwave meal for one to take time to reflect on his treatment of other people and then maybe, just maybe, his after work life might me somewhat prettier for him.
"Make way! Make way! Menopausal woman coming through!" was my parting announcement to my audience.
Thankfully, my sister was running an errand in the bank a few doors away at the time and so her blushes were spared. I haven't told her yet, what I did.