I was having coffee this past week with a friend. I have been a customer of this particular coffee purveyor since the 1980s. I love their coffee. I love their attention to detail, and their amazing choreography that takes place when making a latte or chai. Staff were going through their shut down routine, but still greeted us and set about making our drinks.

I use their app to order and pay for my purchases on a weekly basis. This particular night, I also had a gift card, as well as accumulated points that I could have used to cover paying for my coffee.

Context is Everything

I ordered decaf. My friend ordered tea. And the only other customer, a college-age kid, waited patiently while the barista checked to see if I had anything left on my gift card. There were pennies, but not enough to cover the coffee I’d ordered.

I then attempted to bring up my app. Now, sometimes the Wi-Fi is a bit dodgy, and I don’t always have the screen set and ready to swipe. So, there was an added slow-down in getting everything ready to pay.

When Nothing Goes According to Plan

Perhaps it was because it was close to closing or perhaps it was just because I wasn’t following my usual ritual purchase, but for some reason, I had the darndest time getting my payment app to work.

I swiped my screen, looked at it to find my points, thought I had found the right screen, but when I went to pay, nothing happened.

Now I am starting to feel pressured. After all, this is a just a simple cup of coffee. The total amount of time needed to pour, hand over, and pay should be relatively short, but this was turning into a six-part series I could have pitched to Netflix.

I looked around, noticing that I was not feeling confident in my use of my app to pay, and so started to reach for that antiquated form of commercial exchange – cash.

The barista offered to help with the app and insisted that it would only take a second. I was reluctant, however, to hand over my phone to her.

Patience, Dear . . .

This whole time the college kid was patiently waiting and observing. She was keeping her thoughts to herself, but my high levels of emotional IQ were picking up a certain disdain in having to wait for another old lady to buy her coffee.

This six-part series unfolded at rapid pace in my mind, and that made me even more flummoxed. Finally, I handed over a $5.00 bill. Simultaneously, as the barista began to close out the previous order and re-enter it for cash, not credit, the college kid kindly and helpfully approached me and said, “I’d be happy to help you with your phone!  It’s really easy!  Let me show you how!”

Her eyes shone brightly. Her face was awash with tenderness and kindness.

I wanted to slap her.

Caught in the Headlights

I mumbled something and attempted to gloss over my ineptitude. I was caught in the headlights. My friend and I exchanged knowing glances, communicating our understanding that the young lady had meant well, but had delivered her offer in a ‘Poor-granny-doesn’t-know-how-to-use-technology’ tone.

I smiled, thanked her, and mumbled some weak excuse about the Wi-Fi. I took my change and stepped aside to wait for my coffee. And waited. And waited.

The college kid’s drink came up first. As I continued waiting, she cheerfully offered me tips and tricks for using technology in the future. She let me know how helpful she is to her grandmother and other older family members. Her sincerity raised my blood sugar into diabetic coma levels. Yet, I couldn’t fault her for offering.

My memory banks were flashing episodes of similar well-intentioned but tone-deaf offers of assistance that I had made to older adults throughout my lifetime.  I seeing my younger self mirrored back to me.

I Am an Old Lady

The fullness of the moment was not lost on me or my friend. The staff continued to complete their closing chores, thus ignoring my embarrassment. I had been labeled and tagged as an “Old Lady”.

This went against every fiber of my ego that has, for years, been committing the sin of being prideful of my being on the cutting edge of technology and staying ahead of the curve in terms of adapting to new technology.

Falling Behind

Alas, my facility in using the technology is no longer what it once was. While I send texts using my thumbs, I spend more time correcting spelling errors using my pointer finger to complete the text.

I can’t stand auto correct, and voice-activated AI making suggestions as to what I need drives me up a wall. So, I continue to do things the old way.

The Good Old Days

Reminiscing about “old” technology is actually quite enjoyable for me. Where the college kid will only ever be able to reminisce about the old iPhone14s, I can weave fascinating tales about portable typewriters, IBM Selectrics, carbon paper and white out, all the while calling to mind the glory days of 8-1/2” floppies.

I recently had to replace my hard-drive back-up only to find that the behemoth that once took up space on my desk with three gigabytes of memory had been replaced by a playing card-size object that has room for terabytes of memory.

Fixed in My Ways

I don’t like using the Cloud because I have silly ideas about it not being reliable and safe. I adhere to some ancient belief system that makes me feel that my personally identifiable information is safe because I have a VPN and change my passwords regularly.

(I can hear you laughing!).

Aging and the Inevitable

Truth be told, I am still working through the embarrassment of not being able to easily and effortlessly pay for my coffee with my phone app. But it has also made me aware of the work I need to do in coming to terms with the changes aging is handing me.

I am no longer on the cutting edge. I am now on the periphery. This doesn’t mean I don’t have the knowledge; it means I use my knowledge and experience in different ways, in different arenas.

I am an “old lady”. Younger people who see me do not see all the pathways I’ve taken in my 70-plus years for me to achieve this status. They just see me struggling in the moment to accomplish something that comes easily to them.

Someday, they will find themselves in a similar situation. I hope they can embrace it with as much grace as that college kid showed me. Even if I did want to slap her.