A woman who is five seconds slow

I really don’t like to take the lead in any group. Maybe that’s why I prefer spending time with younger people. It’s easier to just follow what the younger ones want to do. I go where they want to go, eat where they want to eat—I just follow along. After all, wherever you go, it’s all pretty much the same. No place is that much better or worse than another. My way of dealing with people is simply, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

But when I meet with older women, I feel pressure to take the lead. These days, older women know a lot more than before—thanks to YouTube. After retiring, they have time and money, so they constantly share all kinds of new information. If you don’t meet them, you miss out!

We spread a mat under a tree in a park with a clear view of the ocean. We lay down on it. It felt so comfortable—nothing poking into our backs. The breeze gently wrapped around my body, and big fluffy clouds drew pictures in the sky. Early autumn was arriving.

“This is heaven! Thank you, God, for bringing us to such a beautiful place. Hallelujah!”

I said this quickly—before the two church-loving ladies could bring up, “You should come to church.” I changed the subject fast, pulling out one of the jokes I had saved on my phone for moments like this.

Two elderly women were chatting. After catching up, one asked,

“How’s your husband doing?”

“He passed away last week. He went out to pick lettuce for dinner, then suddenly had a heart attack.”

“Oh no! What did you do?”

“Well, what else? I just bought lettuce from the market.”

A woman lying on a mat burst out laughing. The other, who’s usually five seconds behind in reactions, tilted her head, confused. It reminded me of my early days as a teacher. When I stood in front of the class and looked into the students’ eyes, I could always tell who understood and who didn’t. I used to be amazed—“Ah, this is why the teacher’s desk exists.”

I asked the slow one,

“You didn’t get the joke, did you?”

She finally realized. I had to keep an eye on her as I shared more jokes I had saved, checking to see if she could follow along.

The quick one enjoyed the jokes and handled the vibe well. She asked me to send them in a group chat so she could share them with others. But the slow one, without knowing she was ruining the moment, said,

“That joke was from Popeye Lee Sang-yong, right?”

Just five seconds—but when it happens again and again, what then?

I turned my eyes to the floral pattern on the mat. The design was soft, almost invisible, but pretty. It was totally different from the old bedsheet I use when I lie on the beach. I suddenly remembered the days when I lay on a mat on the wooden floor of my country house, looking up sleepily at the bright orange persimmons hanging in the backyard tree. That, too, was heaven.