Old Women are all evil.

This is a fact.

I am finishing my last few days of work in the Hampshire coastal town of Lymington. For those of you who know the place, please bear with me, for those of you who don't I shall explain. It is a Conservative stronghold, probably never been anything but Blue, the population is much older and it would be a lovely place in the New Forest to retire to. Opposite the office I'm in is the red brick, iron gated, ivy clad Lymington Conservative Club, that about sums up this place, very middle / upper class.

I've got no problem with that, but being a young man working here and buying my lunch everyday in Marks and Spencer's I get some funny responses. I'm not short at 6ft2 and I'm reasonably well built at best part of 17stone, but, that doesn't mean I'm a threat. Nor does the fact that to work I'm often not out meeting people so wear jeans, t-shirt or jumper and a cap.

I've been brought up to respect the elders and be a polite person, I always let the little old dear and their husbands through doors before me, and try not to walk too closely behind any of them because last thing they want to turn around and see is me. But this does not stop the looks I receive.

I can't begin to tell you the amount of times I've let an old lady through the door towards me first and stood well out her way with a big smile on my face, only to be looked at as though I've spat on her and kicked her in the shins. Sometimes I wish I had done that.

My point is, that appearances can be stellar, and deceiving. I'm a polite, well brought up lad and perhaps if I wore a suit everyday to the office and therefore the shops I wouldn't ever receive these thunderous scowls. I don't know why it bothers me so much but I don't like to be judged on what I'm wearing or how clean shaven I am on a particular day. I'm not threatening, I'm smiling.

When I'm 80 (if I make it) I'll smile at everyone still.