Brush with oldness

Was cutting through town today with my peeps, heading to the library for a pickup, when an SUV stopped in front of me, hazards blinking, on a stretch where there was no way around him. The driver hops out and rushes to open the door behind his seat, and pulls out some books. Meanwhile, an older woman is slowly progressing out of the passenger-side door in front. We're in front of the library, so I interpret what I'm seeing as a guy stopping traffic (i.e., me) so he can let out some old lady to go to the library - even though we're surrounded by parking lots that abut the library; we're in between two right then. So I make a face, just a little impatient face, not the full-on where you throw your arms up in the air at the injustice of it all. And the woman, now coming around the back of the SUV, gives me the dismissive wave, like the wealthy alumni used to give at Rutgers basketball games when a ref made a call against us. The "ah, go bite yourself" wave. You've seen it.

"That's Martha Stewart!" yells my wife. And sure enough, the driver -- chauffeur, actually -- hands the books -- cookbooks -- to the old biddy, and off she ambles to the sushi restaurant across the street. The driver clears out of there quickly; I definitely got a hit of harried off him. I imagine I'm not the first driver he unwillingly annoyed. I hear she's not too popular around here. Probably the black Chevy. She couldn't afford a Lexus? Or an Escalade? Anyway, I guess I'm lucky I escaped without getting a shiv in the ribs.