Am I Blue?

I am, as the French say, "a woman of a certain age" but I certainly don't feel old. So it constantly surprises me when other people treat me like I am. It happened the other night in St. Louis. And it's sort of a bad news/good news kind of thing. Fearless leader and hostess extraordinaire Mary Hendron took me and two other writers to a blues club -- Beale on Broadway. I must admit that 10:30 is usually my bed time so it did feel a bit odd to be heading out at that time of night (must be an old lady thing). The club was packed and Miss Kim Massie was ruling. The room was not large and we headed toward the back since there were no seats. As you can see, I had a pretty good view -- until the next wave of blues-lovers came in. I always hope for a convention of "little people" because, otherwise, I'm not going to be able to see over anybody. So I squeezed through the crowd and found a spot up by the front door. I stood there quite a while, totally enjoying myself, when the manager saw me, brought a chair and put it at a table (already occupied by another party!) right up in front. Now I was comfortable, happy and I could see. But it also bothered me -- did she do it because I look old? Nah! I'm sure she was just being polite -- nevermind that there were a lot of other women standing up -- and I'll continue to believe that until the next boy scout tries to help me across the street!