Kids Today...

So I figured I'd get in some treadmill time before Operation Laundry commences tonight. Why go all the way to LA Fitness when there's a treadmill in the basement workout room? It's not like their automatically debiting $ from my checking acount every month. And going up the road several miles on a rainy night during rush hour is just... plain... irritating.

I step in the elevator and begin to browse the latest tweets on the timeline. Down goes the elevator and it stops at the next floor. The door opens and there stands your typical short, rather round woman in her late 70s who resembles about 80% of the residents here. 
What happens next plays out like a well rehearsed script:

(Woman steps in elevator... woman stands to my left and I feel her stare as I'm continuing to look down at my phone.)

I glance up for a second, give a half smile (and I don't mean it) and she does exactly what I predicted she'd do in the 5 seconds since she stepped in. I take pause; fully aware I only have to endure whatever she's going to throw at me for no more than 28 seconds (the exact time it takes to get from Floor 8 to Floor 1). And then she goes (verbatim):

"You know... those things... let me tell you, I was in the hospital recently, and the woman on the other side of the room from me, lovely black woman she was, had her grandchildren come to visit her. All four of them. They walked in, said Hello, and then their faces were down in those things for the rest of the time! [shaking head] Kids today..."

It's important to note this elevator statement of hers was expressed in the most objective way; no hints of condescension or judgement, just a huge failure in understanding what could be so fascinating about a little hand held device that could divert your attention from any human interaction in your immediate surroundings instantaneously.

"It's called Twitter, Grandma!"I thought it... but didn't say it.


Ahh! This was a huge missed opportunity on my part. Gigantic. I so dropped the ball. Dropped it, then watched it roll away.
She opened the door (figuratively) by throwing in her two sense about my smartphone usage while in an elevator by myself, and I passed up the chance to sell her on all that is wonderful, funny, constantly updated, and jam packed full of trending topics... the awesomeness otherwise known as: Twitter! She could have followed @AARP and @BettyCrocker!

Yes. Yes I did.

She wouldn't understand. She wouldn't appreciate the # or @. I wasn't going to share something so amazing with her, and open her eyes to the beauty of social media in a random elevator meeting.

No. She was not worthy.

I gave her the other half of that initial smile (still didn't mean it) and probably fanned the flames of her inner smartphone-hating fire by saying:

"Well... I put it on silent during dinner"
(Keep in mind I'm still looking down, browsing Twitter during all of this.)

She gives a half exasperated "Hmmpf", and with an indifferent expression, walks out.

Then I smiled. And I meant it.