It took about
five months for my natural hair color to express itself, free from previous years
of dyeing it, and, wouldn't you know, it is snow white in the front and salt
and pepper in the back, my least favorite colors.
Suddenly, I became
invisible and expendable everywhere. A lone gentleman would open a door for me
instead of slamming it in my face or stepping on my toes. And on Mother’s Day a
rose was offered “for grandma.” I happen to be a proud grandma, but there is no
sign that I am one other than my grey hair.
I became the
invisible and expendable white-haired senior on top of having to
adjust to my new disabled state when walking short distances and balance are
precious commodities. Was it easy to adjust to this unwanted category?
In America,
unlike other cultures who respect, praise, and care for their elders, senectitude
is considered bad and the old, in most families, are thrown into nursing homes,
never to be seen or heard from as long as the hefty bills are paid up.
Living in
northern Virginia (NOVA) with a physical handicap and being old and grey-haired adds another layer of problems.
There are classes of bureaucrats and of foreigners from various countries, here legally and illegally, who follow their traditions from the
culture they left behind where well-paid employment and generous welfare were
not available.
The foreign
workers treat their own elders with respect, but they abuse American seniors
because they are the people they dislike. I have watched them over eight years,
several times a week, abuse sick and elderly American patients in nursing homes.
Shopping in
northern Virginia brings more evidence of foreign employees ignoring elderly Americans
who often dislike shopping online. The associates are mostly foreign and help
their own in whatever language they speak and ignore Americans
waiting patiently in line.
Restaurant
service in NOVA also ignores seniors waiting to be seated and gives preference to
groups who do not speak English and are chatting in their native tongue.
Grocery
shopping in NOVA has been a better experience since I have used Wegmans exclusively
for eighteen years. They pride themselves with their “impeccable” service.
Wegman is a private company with 110 stores in the northeast and $3-4 billion
in revenue. They own buildings and parking areas.
Crime has
been low at Wegmans except for the occasional grocery thief arrested by police or
the bumper scrapes in the parking lot. But all went awry yesterday with my
simple mistake.
I went
inside for a 30-minute shopping with my grocery list in hand. I paid for my two
bags of groceries and my two gallons of tea and left; except my car was no
longer where I left it, a black SUV without a handicap sticker was parked in the
spot.
Thinking
that I did not remember well where I parked, I scanned all the possible places;
it donned on me that I forgot to hang the handicap sticker, I left it behind
the visor. Surely, they did not tow my SUV, I thought.
I went
inside and talked to the assistant manager and the asset protection guy who had a bank of
computer screens attached to the numerous cameras in the store and in the
parking lot and asked them if they had my SUV towed. The answer was no, they
did not, the towing company just randomly drives around all day to catch people
like me.
I did not
believe that, when gas is $4.50/gallon, a towing company would waste gas driving
around. The store had called the tow truck and because their location was only 1.8
miles from the store, he was able to tow my vehicle in record time.
It was 96
degrees Fahrenheit, the hottest day so far, with a heat index, and here I was
in the infernal heat and humidity, a grey-haired senior with MS, waiting for
an Uber to arrive so I can retrieve my SUV.
After paying
the towing company $210, and the Uber driver for the $13 ride (1.8 miles), I got
my SUV and showed the tow truck driver my handicap placard behind the visor.
In my
seventh decade on this earth, I got another lesson in being old and grey-haired.
No matter how many times one shops weekly in the same store, the elderly are invisible
and we get fully punished for being forgetful.
I asked the assistant
manager at Wegmans why they did not make a PSA like, ‘the driver of such and
such vehicle, your SUV is being towed.’ Crickets.
Wegmans made
so many PSAs ad nauseam during Covid – ‘stand in line, wear your mask, enter
and exit the right door, stay 3-6 feet apart, follow the designated yellow line
on each row,’ etc.
I returned
the groceries; the asset protection guy felt sorry for me and offered water, and then both employees disappeared to their office. I will never shop again at
Wegmans because their touted service failed miserably to protect old and
disabled people like me.
