The Only Living Boy in New York
February 8th, 2006
The south is a mecca for retirees. Hell, I’d retire here. They dress well, smell good and like to have a good time. On any given Sunday, there are at least 150 bingo games within a 20-mile radius. I counted. It’s like spring break for the elderly set. A few weeks ago, Abe overheard a man at a bagel shop bragging about his sexual conquests, and the “at least 5″ women he was juggling. He was easily well over 75.
The other night, we went to a crab shack, which was quite an improvement overthe last crab shack, where it home of the Car Wash dance routine. It was freezing cold (I know, I know) and raining, and we were the only folks on the outside porch.
Until they walked in.
They were a couple of about 65-70ish – snowbirds who recently arrived for the season. Upon arrival to the restaurant, the gentleman barked in our direction, “You call this SOUTHERN WEATHER? So much for our fucking vacation!” and stormed to his table.
He continued to keep up the sunny attitude throughout dinner, berating the waitress for putting a lime in his Corona and complaining about the length of time his dinner took to prepare. But things really heated up when we heard:
“HELEN. 22 FUCKING YEARS and you pull this shit. TWENTY TWO YEARS, you bitch!”
It became obvious that Helen had called him out having an affair with a neighbor down here, and simply replied with, “Unless you’re a CIA operative, Fred, you are screwing someone else. And you’re an old asshole with a job in INSURANCE SALES, so don’t lie to me, fuckface. YOU ARE HAVING SEX WITH HER AND I DO NOT LIKE IT ONE BIT. YOU WANT ME TO YELL LOUDER SO THEY CAN ALL HEAR US?”
For the record? We could all hear them already.
“TWENTY TWO YEARS HELEN. And you want to throw it away with some crazy accusation, you BITCH! YOU CRAZY BITCH. YOU CRAZY, INSANE BITCH. YOU THINK I’M FUCKING HER? I MIGHT AS WELL FUCK HER, IF THIS IS WHAT YOU THINK. I’M LEAVING NOW TO GO FUCK HER, HELEN! YOU OKAY WITH THAT?” He was yelling louder now, and my mouth was agape. Agapity was interrupted with,
“JONNIKER! For fuck’s sake, stop staring. That guy might be 70, but he can kick my ass, and I REALLY don’t feel like getting in a fight with an elderly man in aviator glasses. SO STOP IT.”
They left in a drunken stupor, piling into their Mercedes to continue to accusations in another venue and making the roads more dangerous than they were earlier in the evening. I think the manager called the police.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tonight at dinner, we overheard, “And tonight, I was driving WITHOUT MY TEETH!”
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
13 Comments Add your own
1. Yesrie | February 8th, 2006 at 10:33 pm
O! M! G!
More. We need to hear more of this, please. I can’t get enough! And have you mentioned yet in Hrmph the community activity item… where the specificity of it all just blew me away? Oh, you must.
And Helen, wherever you are: you rock.
2. Jamie | February 9th, 2006 at 9:05 am
Fab. U. Lous. I love these stories.
3. winterwheat | February 9th, 2006 at 9:18 am
*jaw agape*
You know that poem entitled something like “When I Am an Old Woman, I Shall Wear Purple?” I think these people have taken the message a bit too far. “When I Am an Old Man, I Shall Firebomb a Convenience Store and Sit in the Parking Lot Cackling.” That’s what you’re surrounded by down in F. L. A.
Good lord. Do they wear Speedos on the beach too?? No, no, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.
4. Whinger | February 9th, 2006 at 11:07 am
Oh dear God. Would have wanted to follow them in the car to get MORE of the conversation. MORE.
My grandfather lives in an upper-class retirement home (not a “home” home, just a place where a bunch of old people have condos together). When his last wife died, the little old ladies were lining up in the hall to give him tastes of their home-cookin’.
The old guys are so outnumbered, they CAN juggle 5-at-a-time.
Ew.
5. Sian | February 9th, 2006 at 12:01 pm
ROFL! I’m sorry, but I would have had to stay there until I found out whether he was going to admit to it or not, or whether she was going to withdraw the accusation.
6. Amandampc | February 9th, 2006 at 5:15 pm
LOL!!!! Oh, those meshuggeneh seniors! Between them and the demonic teens, you are really building up some great character sketch material. Work it! Your blog entry reads like it could be the start of a kickin’ short story.
Love the Simon and Garfunkel title. This, along with “So Long Frank Lloyd Wright,” is one of the most shiningly beautiful examples of S&G artistry, I think.
7. Kate | February 10th, 2006 at 8:46 am
Wallace Stevens wrote a poem with the phrase “… venereal soil,
Disclose to the lover…” but I don’t think this is what he meant!!! LOL.
Once again, your warmth reaches me in my tiny office in a library in cold Upstate NY. Thank you for making me laugh out loud. KM
8. mireille | February 10th, 2006 at 12:06 pm
The best. I love this. xoxo
9. Trina | February 10th, 2006 at 3:39 pm
Ah, the Golden Years…
10. Campaspe | February 11th, 2006 at 7:53 am
LMFAO. Honestly, if that is what I can get after 70 I think I will go in for needlepoint.
11. Campaspe | February 11th, 2006 at 7:55 am
By the by — I guess we are all assuming that Helen was right, and he was fucking her? no chance Fred’s reaction truly was outraged innocence?
12. winterwheat | February 11th, 2006 at 8:43 pm
I thought of you yesterday while I was standing in line at the pharmacy, waiting for my scrip. The elderly man in front of me was asking, in a loud and grating voice, for Anusol. “Anbesol?” inquired the pharmacist. “NO, ANUSOL. ANTI-ITCH ANUSOL. Where is it? I need ANTI-ITCH ANUSOL.” “Oh, that’s OTC, aisle 8.” “I looked there already but I couldn’t find ANTI-ITCH ANUSOL. Help me find the ANUSOL. ANTI-ITCH.” I was tired or I’d have laughed out loud.
13. Parisjasmal | February 12th, 2006 at 8:04 pm
LORD. My Dad and his wife live in Florida and it is a trip to listen to the conversations. Pops and his wife used to go to a place called Molly’s and watch the elderly people dance. My dad had nicknames for all of them based on their appearance and demeanor. My favorite nickname he had for one lady who must have been about 75 was Freuline D Cups. Yes, my dad is a sicko.
BTW that Simon and Garfunkel song is one of my all time faves!
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