Sometimes it can pay to admit you are elderly

I APPRECIATE Maureen Hunt’s feelings (Yorkshire Post, August 1) on being regarded, and addressed, as elderly, but following my recent experience (below) I’m inclined to abandon all pretence at prickly self-reliance and see myself as others obviously see me, to coin a phrase.

I’m not so young as I was and have recently had several bouts of illness, but when I walked carefully into the supermarket the other day I was quite convinced that in appearance I was an alert and active retired gent, whatever I felt.

The checkout girl called me “my love” and as she passed each item through her machine skilfully packed it into a bag for me.

At another counter when I produced a handful of change from my pocket the lady 
instantly pounced to select the required coins without my invitation. I felt not resentful but chastened.

Such consideration is 
normally shown only to the 
most aged and handicapped (it saves time in the end), not to spritely, young-for-their-age chaps like me. I think I could get to like it.

I’m told that in Cornwall there are ladies who affectionately address you as “my lamb pie”. Who could object to that?