I wrote an essay a couple years ago about a 70-something man in my neighborhood who stopped me on my walk to say he knew a better way I could work up a sweat. I was so disgusted and horrified, I just smiled and kept going. And then I was angry at myself for not pushing back. But also...there was no one else around, he was doing yard work (had tools that could be used as weapons) and I didn't want to escalate the situation. But damn. Reminded me of the shorts incident you related here.