Army of Geriatrics

I was walking my dog yesterday when an old black lab started following us. He ran ahead, behind, and around us, marking every bush in sight and reach. I was surprised that he had it in him. He kept up almost the entire way, right until the final stretch home. He had a collar on, so I wasn't as concerned with his health as much as his safety, as he clearly had no concept of the moving vehicle or how fast it could go.

I rode my bicycle down Potter Street today when I kept crossing paths with (and ending up behind) a sixty-something man on his own bike. I wasn't as concerned with passing him as I was with trying to lose him by taking side streets, as it's pretty awkward to be stuck behind a stranger who knows full well you're there.

As neutral as I feel towards old people, I'm worried that this is going to become a trend. There's already an older man who comes into the coffeeshop all day Sunday, orders refill after refill while working on his screenplay, and has offered to pay me $10 an hour licking envelopes for him when it comes time to send it out. I can picture driving home on Memorial Day, sandwiched between sedan after station wagon after beige Camry, right as Highway 63 turns into one lane. Even worse, I'm sure some elderly dame will feel the strongest need to cross the road right as I'm at cruising speed but within stopping distance.

Nevertheless, I was tempted to keep tailing the guy on the bike all the way home, just to see if the dog might be there too.