Another Pensioner First

I remember seven or eight years ago at work that I had printed off some photos of my very young nephews. A young colleague caught sight of them and asked about them; it took a few seconds to realise he assumed they were my grandchildren. I was quite shocked at the time, I remember, but shouldn't have been, I guess. It was just a sign of how I was seen that I hadn't been aware of.
This morning, as the tube briefly emptied at Moorgate, a young man stood and offered me his seat. I was flabbergasted, but hopefully didn't show it and thanked him, saying I only had one stop to go. That has never ever ever happened before. Perhaps he was a crazy guy. He must have been.
Later, I listened to the most ribald stories of an Edinburgh rogue that I'd just happened to bump into hanging about Soho Square. And no one offered me a seat at all! Though MrS (for it was he) could have done with a stool earlier.