At the Coliseum this evening, I had been to the loo, bought my programme, dumped my coat, and bought a drink. I realised it was ages until curtain-up so I thought I would nip outside for a fag. Obviously, at that time the majority of people are coming in, not going out, so I knew that the onus was on me to pay attention whilst going against the flow.
I opened one of the heavy, inward opening front doors, and was about to pop out when I realised that my way was blocked by a very immobile woman, with a walking stick, being helped up the steps by a taxi driver. He and I did an exchange of facial expression, where he ensured that I knew how immobile the woman was, and I ensured that he knew I would hold the door for as long as necessary. She thanked him profusely and gratefully, and then thanked me. Not just with her voice - 'thank you so much, every little helps' but with her eyes. Her eyes told a story of a once independent woman embarrassed by her now dependence on others.
Immediately following her was a group of four perfectly able-bodied people - or two twosomes - who flounced through the door, tried to push her out of the way, looked at me as if I was something the cat dragged in. In amongst them was a man who saw me, realised what was happening, gave me a sympathetic look, and a 'thank you - oh dear'.
Following behind was a man with a walking stick who was relatively spritely as walking stick users go, but, nevertheless, clearly needed the stick. Cheerily, he said "Oh! Are you trying to get out. Everyone's stopping you!" I said "I don't mind you!" "You'd better get out while you can!" he advised, with a conspiratorial smile, and he took the door from me, for which I thanked him.
I stood against the wall smoking my cigarette and finishing my drink (ssssh - don't tell anyone, I took a glass outside...) A woman was walking backwards across the pavement, fairly rapidly, and was about to cannon into me, so I said "Don't walk backwards any more..." Swiftly she turned round, and looked me up and down in the most condescending manner. She realised what she had done, her face turned to embarrassment, and giving me one last filthy look she scuttled away. I wasn't expecting an apology but she clearly decided she was better than me.
I'm not going to rant. I want to analyse. We are in a situation where there is a large number of people in close quarters (it's called a city...) Perhaps I am over-conscious of my dyspraxia, so maybe I tend to over-compensate by being hyper-aware of my physical surroundings and (lack of) personal space.
The man who offered me a thank-you/oh dear had clearly realised, but a tad too late, what was happening, and graciously acknowledged his mistake. We all make mistakes - a couple of weeks ago I tutted at a group of people sitting on the floor, a micro-second before I noticed a First Aid bag, and a moment before I overheard 'She's had a fit'. I felt bad about that, and there was nothing I could do make amends.
But the people who tried to push the infirm old lady out of the way and looked at me like I was something they had trodden on - what's their excuse. Surely they must have seen the old lady teetering up the steps - unless they had barged their way through the crowd on the pavement, too. I was not wearing the uniform of a Coliseum employee. If I was, I would not, but should, have been showed common courtesy.
I can only assume that these people, who clearly looked like they were Tory voters from Surrey or Buckinghamshire, are so unfamiliar with being with people, let alone in a city, that they cannot cope. People who are used to cities negotiate crowds; those that drive around their smug suburbs and commuter towns have lost any spatial awareness. And they obviously think they are better than me, which is, patently, untrue. And better than the deeply infirm elderly lady who showed herself to be vastly superior to them by her grace and charm.
