In the middle of a miserable, rainy, packed rush-hour Lexington Line IRT, two people offered me a seat. It took a couple of days to realize they were about 30 years younger than me. It only took a few seconds to say thank you and sit down.
I hate standing.
But Florence, easily 20 to 30 years older than I am today, would refuse the multiple offers a cute white haired old lady always got, stamping her feet indignantly "No!". As if the offer challenged her ferocious lunge at another day to recapture the lost time and the old dreams.
