I love old people. Love them. I love the old men in their Members Only jackets I see in the grocery store, the old women with their cute little hair barrettes, and even the old couples holding hands after all these years.
It usually strikes when I am behind an old man in the grocery store. There he is in his Members Only jacket, pulling out his little squeezy plastic change thing to pay with the exact amount, and I start to think about the life he led. Was he a nice guy? Did he beat his wife? Was he nice to his kids? Did he go to work all day, busting his butt to make sure his family's needs were met? Did he drink his pay check away at the bar every Friday? Did he...? Was he...?
Usually by the time he leaves, I have convinced myself that he is all alone, eating his TV dinner because he never learned how to cook and his wife has died. Of course, his kids don't have time for him, because they are too busy with grand kids and getting promotions at work and all that stuff that 60 year olds do. His grand kids never come around, because they are too busy getting laid at the college he is helping pay for, the ungrateful bastards. All of his friends died years ago, except for George - who he never liked anyway - and Joyce and Carl, who being the only living couple over the age of 80, just remind him of his wife. Besides going to the grocery store the only human contact he has is when he yells at those damn kids for walking across his lawn - which is ok because it took him an hour and a half to get to the store because he drives exactly 12 MPH.
As you can see, I have too much time on my hands waiting in the groery store line. Maybe I need to take a sudoku book with me...
4 comments:
You know, my grandma's partner Bob kind of looks like that but he's rich and takes my grandma gambling and spends $1000 a week doing so and is pretty damn happy about it. Um yeah-$1000..... Um yeah, the other day I was telling you I was feeling all broke. I could eat off his weekly gambling money for 10 weeks.... Anyway I guess what I am saying is that looks can be deceiving. Next time make up a happy story!
See, I need to know old people like Bob! I am horrible. and now of course, I cry about the horrible pretend lives these people have led.
The really sad thing is though, it doesn't matter what they look like. They could be in a tux and I would 1) question what the heck they were doing in the grocery store in a tux, and 2) still feel so sad for him.
Next time I am going to make him a big spender at the casino. I will let you know if it works.
He's probably better off than all of us because every one that ever pissed him off has died and he is enjoying his simple life with the convenience of tv dinners and Andy Griffith reruns and time of the day or night on all but four cable channels.
Ha! I never thought of it that way. I like the way you think, Anonymous!
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