Maybe it was the hat. The mirror shades. The stubble on my chin. The long hair sticking out from under the hat. Or maybe it was the black boots, the black jeans, the bright, green, flowery and over-sized shirt.
I helped the "handicapped" young man with his cart. He was stuck between two doors leaving a coffeeshop, trying to open one door and pushing his cart forward. He was stuck.
I volunteered. I took command of the cart and helped him exit. No big deal. A good act. Neighborly. Friendly.
He was pleased with the help. He turned to me, slowly looked me up and down, seeing me clearly for the first time, and he declared: "You're one of those 70's people, right?!"
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