Patsy was giving out about how women over a certain age can be treated differently.
"I was in the shop looking for lingerie and I asked this young one for help and she directed me towards all the stuff for oul' wans," she said in a voice that suggests she believes she is younger than she actually is.
As is her wont, Patsy put the poor assistant in her place by informing her of her very active sex life which involved positions she wouldn't have even heard of.
I understood where Patsy was coming from.
A couple of years ago I was on a trip to Slovakia and we were staying in a hotel that had a water park.
I'm like a child when it comes to water parks and the slides are my favourite. Togs on, I made a bee line for the biggest one.
When I got to the top of the stairs there was quite a crush of girls who were about 30 years younger than me.
They were all blonde with pneumatic breasts and pert bums. Worse, I had bingo wings bigger than their cellulite free thighs.
This was about six months after I had reconstructive surgery and I was very proud of my new breasts which, unlike the old ones, didn't fall down when I took my bra off at night.
However, the two lifeguards at the top couldn't take their eyes off the younger women.
I was getting more and more annoyed as they flirted with them by letting them skip the queue and giving them a cheeky wink as they took off.
Finally, I elbowed my way on to the slide. There was no cheeky wink from the two guys as they were busy looking at the blonde behind me who was shrieking with laughter at their antics.
I might as well have been invisible.
I stood at the top of the slide to wait for the red light to go green and turned slightly to give the lads one last chance to admire my new mammaries but, somehow, I missed my footing.
With a crash that would have woken the dead, I fell over on my back with my legs in the air. Unable to gain traction on the water, I was plunged head first, down the tube.
The light, by the way, was still red.
Fifteen seconds later I landed on top of one of the blondes as she was trying to exit the pool.
It was only sheer luck that I didn't decapitate her, though I'd say she is still suffering from PTSD.
I decided to brazen it out and with my head held high I climbed the stairs again, albeit with a limp.
This time the two lifeguards remembered exactly who I was.