Saturday errands included a dreaded trip at peak hours to Whole Foods, the only supermarket within a 10 block radius of my apartment in super trendy Nolita.

While waiting for the number in my color line to be called, I saw only one elderly person (I mean, besides myself – and she had a good twenty years on me) among the crowd. Everyone else was under 40 – including the brown people working the cash registers. The next number was called and the old woman went to the register. But it wasn’t her turn – she was in the green line and they called the number for yellow. I watched her as she was confused how the system works while the cashier was patiently trying to explain but eventually gave up and asked the young family who was supposed to go if they minded. Everyone was kind and told the old woman it was okay. But then she fumbled around with cash and the transaction seemed to take forever. I could feel the judgement by those still waiting in line. At this point I was fighting back tears because it just sucks getting old.