Front Porch: Worried the old lady vibes are growing too strong these days

I got panhandled recently. It certainly wasn’t the first time that’s happened, but it does seem to be taking place more often.

Even so, this time was appreciably different.

I was at a large grocery store on the South Hill, a little on the early side of the morning when there weren’t too many shoppers out, when a man came up to me holding a protein drink and a box of breakfast cereal. I took him to be homeless.

He asked for money. There was nothing threatening about him, and I didn’t feel uneasy in any way. I don’t take my wallet out at moments like that, as I think that could put me in some jeopardy, so I said that I was sorry but I couldn’t help him. As I walked away, he said, not unkindly (but oddly, it seems), “Thank you.”

I got a few more items, then in the produce section I came across him again. He walked past me, placed the drink in my cart and handed the cereal to a store employee, and, it seemed, headed for the exit.

I lifted the drink out of my cart, which I could tell was now empty, and went to the checkout line. As my groceries were being scanned, I saw the man leaning against a wall off to the left of the exit to the cash register line. He was staring at me.

I made eye contact and asked him, as dispassionately as I could manage, if he was looking at me. He used some words to deflect, then my attention was caught up by the checker, who asked me if the man was bothering me.

I recounted how he’d asked for money and later put an item in my cart. The checker said he was going to get someone to come over, and went to do so. I decided to just take my purchases and leave the store, turning to the exit on the right rather than walk past the panhandler.

As I did so, he started to move in my direction. I turned and asked if he was following me. Again, kind of a muffled set of words came out of him, and he left the store.

I am well aware that many people in his situation can have mental or emotional issues, or drug problems, but, in my life, I’ve not come across someone who was aggressive or made me feel in danger when asking for money.

And, I have to say, if anything, he was passive aggressive, and I was not feeling threatened. I was, after all, in a well-lit store, with some shoppers and store employees nearby. This just puzzled and bothered me.

A store employee – the manager, I believe – decided to escort me to my car, which I felt rather embarrassed by, but I did appreciate, because the situation seemed so strange.

The employee made apologies and noted that I should not have had to experience what I experienced.

Outside, there was the man again, now in the parking lot. After I was in my car and getting ready to leave, the employee engaged him and told him he needed to move on. I don’t know if anything further came of that.

I was wondering as I proceeded with my day if I had just been a target of opportunity or if, because I’m an older woman with a slight limp, I was singled out as an easy mark. Possibly both. I was thinking that the vulnerabilities of aging may well become more of a factor in my life because, frankly, I’d be easy to knock down if someone wished to do so.

And then there’s the other side of the equation.

A few hours later, I was in Cheney and had stopped at a store there to buy a large plastic storage container. Normally, I’d have lifted the hatch and put it in the back of my car, but because that cargo area was filled with boxes of books I was delivering to Eastern Washington University, I needed to load the big tub into the backseat.

It was a little bit of a struggle, not because it was heavy, but because it was an awkward size that just barely fit through the door.

And suddenly a woman’s voice rang out: “Can I help you with that, dear?” I could have done without the “dear,” as it sounds so condescending, and said that I had it under control. She came over anyhow.

Was I really sending out such strong old-lady-needs-help vibes or was she just being a nice person?

I decided to try to be helpful in return as I got my item loaded and asked if she’d like my cart for when she went into the store. She said: “Oh, I’ll be happy to return it for you.”

No, no, no, that’s not what I meant, but it wasn’t a fine point I decided needed any more of my time to straighten out. So, I thanked her and hoped she’d just go away.

And then she handed me a religious tract that she thought would make me feel better to read. “I think you will like this, dear.”

Nothing against religion, kindness to old people, good neighborliness or any of it … but, good grief, could the day get any worse for this old lady’s sense of competence and independence?

Voices correspondent Stefanie Pettit can be reached by email at upwindsailor@comcast.net.