When I was at school it was mostly only the rebellious kids who didn't give up their seats on the bus for adult passengers. These days it's remarkable when a kid does give an adult their seat. In fact, I still haven't forgiven those rude people who stayed seated when I waddled onto a crowded bus, 6 months pregnant and dying to take the weight off my feet.
So why did a young man offer me his seat on the bus this afternoon?
He wasn't doing to chat me up - because he didn't.
It's possible that he caught sight of my "mature" hands and - putting that together with my old-man newsboy hat, deduced that I was an unsteady old biddy.
Or, he saw how voluminous my A-line coat was (not the one I've been sewing - that one is only just big enough) and mistook me for a pregnant lady (where the hell was he 4 1/2 years ago?)
Hopefully, he did it because my oversized bag looked really heavy (it was - it was full of library books about women's fashion).
But I'll never know. It was nice to have a seat all the way home though.