Bill of Carnegie

Yesterday I was racing through the supermarket and tried to run out of the doors but was held up by an old couple having a natter. They were both tiny, bent over little people, age had shrunken their bodies and their heads were bowed down. I patiently waited and then once the way was clear, went out. The old man caught my eye and started a conversation. After ten minutes, when I left his company I:

* knew his name [Bill of Carnegie]

* had been given his address [very close and near a school]

* had been given his age and that of his wife [93 and 91 respectively]

* had been informed he and his dear wife had just found out that their son [63] who had a lump in his stomach had been given the all clear, and Bill was just walking on air

* had been told that spinach is the key, it's a fabulous food [knew that anyway, love the old spinach]

* had been offered a couple of plants [hence reason for him giving me his address]

* had been told that the plants were brought over from OS in the 1920s and that he'd been eating them since the '30s [is this where my bs radar is meant to kick in?]

Later that night I told my daughter and she said "you're not going to go there are you?" I said, I might, and I thought I'd take you with me [for protection, I thought, but didn't say.]

Should I go and see Bill, risking the fact that he might have alzheimer's and so I'm met at the door by his very sane wife, and she shakes her head muttering something about "coot" and "crazy". My question is this? Is the pull of getting some 80-year-old spinach worth looking like an idiot even when even he doesn't remember me [hello Bill, remember me, I'm Jxxxx of Caulfield South and you said you'd give me some spinach] and the conversation we had?