A Difference in Generations

Once when I was headed for my kidney specialist I shared an elevator with a talkative, older, retired gentleman.

He darted from subject to subject, interdispersing his storytelling with wit and questions to me, that I wasn't really meant to answer. He was a piece of work. I love guys like that. You just know everywhere he goes he's talking. It doesn't matter whether he knows you or not. Well, it doesn't matter whether you want to talk or not.

The elevator opened and with a nod I walked out and immediately realized that this was not my floor. I got off too early.

No biggie. I live for those stupid moments. I turned around and quickly got back in the elevator, smiling.

"Don't worry about it," the older man said to me, laughing. "I've done that a bunch of times."

This time on the right floor, I stepped out of the elevator and took a right, moving toward my doctor's office. As I reached the door, I peaked over my shoulder and noticed that the man from the elevator was visiting the same doctor's office.

I held the door for him, and he exchanged the courtesy of letting me register first.

As I registered, the receptionist collected my co-pay of $25, and ushered me to the waiting area.

I found an old magazine to read, but before I knew it the man from the elevator was sitting right next to me.

"Did I hear her say that you have a $25 co-pay?" the man asked me.

"Yes," I replied.

"Maaaaannnnnnn," he said, "it just keeps getting worse and worse. What else do you have to pay for? You know my insurance has always covered everything, all my life. That's just the way it used to be."

A nurse opened a door and stated loudly, "Jim Albert."