CPAC assumptions and me . . .

 

Dear you,

There they are: the young Trump fans super excited about their golden god at CPAC.  I expect young ones to have crushes, but crushing on Florida Man 45? And by the way, what are they wearing?  I assumed the young had style. They’re dressed like seniors on a Carnival Cruise. I guess I should not be making assumptions about anyone because of their age.  I don’t like it when the assuming is done about me.  Like last week.

I was back in Tallahassee for a change of scene and to check out property.  I am leaning towards that small city thing again, and I discovered a 55 and over residential community selling space.  I called and booked an appointment with one of the agents and met her for a tour.  I discovered things old people are supposed to love but I hate:

The townhouse I looked at was about twenty feet from a busy road.  So convenient!  No, that is actually so loud.

The townhouse was fueled by natural gas.  So affordable!  No, so environmentally destructive.

The clubhouse, pool, and gym were literally empty.  So quiet and uncrowded!  No, so depressing.  (Where is everyone?  Have they all fallen in their new homes and can’t get up?)

The complex is about to start construction on Phase 2, but the worst will be over by next year.  So many new neighbors on the way! No, so chaotic, and what makes you think I will make it to next year?

The complex has a 55 and over owner/resident restriction.  So exclusive! But wait! Owners can let their grandkids visit anytime for up to 30 days!   So no, no, no, no, no.

I came close to buying the townhouse; it was fresh, modern, lovely actually. But everything that was assumed to lure me in for the sale did not.  The sales agent was really confused by this.

Still, the trip to Tally was not a waste of time.  It was restful and fun, even if not property productive.  I enjoyed the retreat, strolling around the lake under the trees, chatting with other guests.  Doing that one evening, I dealt with yet another assumption:

Nice 30-something man:  Hi!  I’m _______.  How are you?

Old person me:  Excellent.  I’m Joyce.

Nice 30-something man:  Why are you in Tally?  I’m here to do some work for __________ Energy Company.

Old person me:  I’m here to relax, be somewhere else, and look for property.  I checked out a 55 and over thing, but too many negatives.  I like this town though.

Nice 30-something man:  I like it too.  Hey, have you thought about The Villages?  Lots of people retire there.

Oh my god.  The Villages.  MAGA hats.  Golf carts.  Xenophobia.  Death.  This nice man assumed I was one of them.  Because I am old.  I did not snap at him; I just said it wasn’t my style.  Then I went back up to my room to contemplate my categorization and the many assumptions to come.

Old.  Young.  Never assume.  Young men at CPAC inexplicably hot for Trump and an old lady inexplicably not hot for gas and grandkids.  Who knew?

Love,

Joyce