talkin' bout

"Young lady, I feel really sorry for your generation," she told me. 

Looking up from a spot on the metro station floor, indignant face. 

"But you don't even know me," was the cool reply - as though her words hadn't stung at all.

"Oh, yes I do," she assured. "I can tell by the way you smiled at me right then. You are all lost. You have lost your individuality. I feel really sad for you." 

She got on the metro and me behind her, saying nothing more. We sat across and stared. When the door opened, I went out, representing my generation.