Floppy Hat

My floppy hat protects more than my ears from the sun.
It protects me from any expectations.
People see my hat and ignore my lithe, toned body
The hat conveys qualities such as old, slow moving, fragile.
Doors are opened for me, seats surrendered.
Voices are louder than normal so I can grasp instructions.
Teens treat me as excess skin and organs taking up their space.
Women smile benevolently, convinced I'm safe.
My eyeglasses add to the image of vulnerability.
Is someone here with you, strangers ask worriedly.
If I look vaguely confused, others run to help.
No one asks me anything, assuming I'm befuddled.
I look at home with fishermen at lakes.
Except I don't fish.
When I wear my floppy hat
People assume I have a charming, homespun philosophy.
What I have is a sweaty scalp
And a feeling respect is a bus that's long gone.
Which means I can take crap and still live with myself.
No expectations, no pressure.
Now, when I wear my baseball cap
I am nothing less than an intimidation warehouse.