I RECENTLY spent a couple of hours at a bus stop with a lady who’d left her handbag on the 11.10am X39 bus out of St Aldate’s.

“It’s got all my money and my prescription in it – my husband’s going to kill me”.

She dropped her cane in the street. Then she soiled herself. It was awful.

I had already called the bus depot a couple of times. The person who answered the phone was helpful. But he was powerless amidst what must have been a colourful range of technological advances.

The next bus pulled up. A concerned driver turned the engine off. He invited the lady to take a seat while he located the correct bus and retrieved her items.

“Why are we waiting” rang out a chorus of disaffected oafs from the back of the bus. Not young oafs, I dare add. Probably an ill-clad gang of middle-aged folk spewed from the bowels of Thatcher’s Britain – uncaring, disinterested.

Elsewhere on the bus were the kind of people I’m proud to hang out with. Like the tired teenage couple with a pram who offered help.

And the passenger on the seat behind who pledged an hour of her time while the bus – now parked up in Reading – drove the handbag back to its owner in distant Wallingford.

But no one should ever celebrate a group of people coming together to give a helping hand. We should always do this, without a moment’s thought.

On finding a lost child in the street even these uncouth oafs at the back of the bus would express worry.

My concern today is with the elderly – who I was brought up to respect. I will continue to do so, not only because I’ll eventually join their ranks.

And I’m especially annoyed by those organisations which will only help elderly, vulnerable people if they “go online”. You’ve been widowed for 60 years and your husband isn’t there to fix the boiler? Go online. There’s a problem with your pension? Go online. Your neighbours have erected a 90 foot statue of Gary Glitter in the back garden? Go online. Need to contact the council? Go online.

Regardless of your circumstances you’re expected to suddenly have the ability to type out your worries, fire-off an email, afford a laptop, demand internet access. I’m sure there are plenty of people over the age of 70 who are internet savvy. But I don’t know any.

It’s not that I don’t think the internet is a good thing. But it’s becoming the case that you can’t achieve anything without a computer. And I find this a ridiculous prospect for today’s pensioners – being forced to take up technology.

I’ll always help people around me in need, and encourage others to do the same without a moment’s thought. If I fail – feel free to hashtag my backside and instagram my shame. My Nan would never understand it anyway.