Old folks occasionally want to start acting like they are above the law... I think the special "G-Ma/G-Pa" treatment they receive at home kinda goes to their heads. The scrappy old broad that got tazed likely deserved a good tazing. Besides, she'll most likely not need a new battery in her pacemaker for another couple of years now.
Reminds me of a couple of weeks back, I was waiting in line at the grocery store to get a pack of smokes and a mega millions ticket. At 6'1" 240 lbs I'm not really easy to miss, yet somehow granny shuffling along with her walker thinks she can pretend to NOT know where the line begins.
So having been told that I too had a Grandmother at some point, I politely said "Ma'am, the line begins back there," motioning towards a spot about three people behind me.
Of course I get nothing. No response at all, clearly this oldster was determined to to be treated as "honored".
So I repeat myself, still gently (after all I am a gentleman) but just a little louder and I say "Ma'am, there's a line here, don't pretend you don't know how to queue, please take yourself to the back."
Well at this point she sorta shuffles her walker around to face me, gives me a slightly spooky twitch of her upper lip as if she wanted to say something and forgot what it was, or she had just relieved herself in her depends...not sure which. Regardless, she just shuffled back around and encroached another couple of inches on the line directly in front of me. Well that was about enough of that.
I stepped forward, placing myself directly in front of the grandmother scented oldster preventing any further progress of the custom super deluxe walker she was shuffling around and I motioned towards the end of the line.
Well apparently that was retirement home yard code for game on. Granny threw that damn walker into fast forward and just ramming me in the left ankle. I'll admit, it hurt a little. Was wishing that I was wearing my riding boots in fact. SO, I'm thinking GAME ON MOTHBALLS, and I turn to face this wrinkled, hobbling endorsement of euthanasia.
She's apparently angry, I could tell cause her gaunt cheeks, previously the tone of slightly bleached bone had become a faint pinkish glow, almost as if her heart still pumped red blood, instead of the ashes of failure, imminent death, and bitterness which I had previously suspected.
She was determined though and with a gimpy little shuffle she rammed me again with her stroller. By this time attracting quite a bit of attention. Now I'm a patient man, and I tend to just let things go, but at this point I can hardly have this old biddy putting her walker in my pooper for the next 3 minutes here in line. SO, thinking quickly I decided to just step aside... In hindsight perhaps NOT the best option, but hell, your lean your walker firmly against my shins, I'm likely to get out of the way.
Now, I probably shouldn't have given the nearest walker wheel the little tap that I gave as I swept to my left, but hell, if I'm going to go ahead and let a little ole' lady bully me, I'm not going without a little bit of fight.
Well, in hindsight the results were predictable, though far more spectacular than I had imagined. Apparently the Crypt Keeper before me had truly been putting all her effort into punishing my shin with her aluminum Grandma Hobbler 4000. So, as I stepped away to the left, a rather sudden and graceful motion, the front of her walker launched forward with some quickness. As I had also given the front of it a bit of twitch left, it launched from under her and Newton's persistent child took over.
Granny hit with a pretty decent thud (well as decent a thud as 80lbs of withered and crunchy can make) and didn't move. Not a twitch. Hitting the hard polished floor like a wet sandbag.
You can imagine the scene, "granny down" I called with a slightly perverse giggle. (under my breath of course) But this worn out, bitter husk wasn't moving. "Well hell" I thought, this is just perfect. A rather stunned crowd had gathered, a few of whom had witnessed the events preceding a few that hadn't. Quickly, I knelt down checking for breath or pulse finding neither.
Queen started playing in my head, couldn't help it, she just "Bit the Dust" and I had the tune in my head. I'll admit to having to suppress another wry grin.
Well as there was nothing more for me to do here, and feeling much like the angel of death I stood, resolved to have my smokes and Lotto ticket. Surprisingly, the line had scattered (The Ex-Granny proving far more useful than the living one had) and right to the counter I went. The clerk, looking a little shaken and slightly alarmed, needed a small bit of prodding but eventually managed to get me my smokes and my ticket.
I pivoted away from the counter, having packed my smokes a few times on the counter, (Bang Bang Bang) and as I cast one more look over my shoulder realized I was the center of attention. I stood there for a moment, searching for the words that these sheep like suburban denizens apparently needed. I took a smoke from the pack, put it to my lips while fishing my trusty chrome zippo out of my black leather jacket "EVIL" emblazoned across it's time honored case . Flicking open my lighter with it's classic "TING" sent a chill through the fore mentioned herd of sheeple and I brought the fire to my cigarette and gave it a couple of puffs.
Eye's still locked on me, "the herding instinct is strong in these folks" I thought to myself. Folks twitched as I stepped forward again, smoke between the fingers of my left hand, flinching away as I moved, they were seemingly aware that they had a wolf in their midst. Stepping towards the motionless, crumpled Ex-Grandmother, I could hear the murmurs emanating quietly from the crowd, breaking the silence, echoing off the walls of the store with a cathedral like hush. Eye's still locked on me, seemingly too afraid to look away.
I stopped a foot or so away from the form rumpled on the floor. Taking another drag of my cigarette, I looked upon the empty husk, realizing that this is our final destination, there is no escape, no grand finally, no guarantee of grace nor dignity.
The words came to me... "NO ONE GETS OUT ALIVE", I said, "Ashes to ashes, Dust to dust" flicking the ashes of my cigarette over the still form, I turned slowly, and walked away, the gathered crowd was hushed, stunned to silence.
End Fiction
Reminds me of a couple of weeks back, I was waiting in line at the grocery store to get a pack of smokes and a mega millions ticket. At 6'1" 240 lbs I'm not really easy to miss, yet somehow granny shuffling along with her walker thinks she can pretend to NOT know where the line begins.
So having been told that I too had a Grandmother at some point, I politely said "Ma'am, the line begins back there," motioning towards a spot about three people behind me.
Of course I get nothing. No response at all, clearly this oldster was determined to to be treated as "honored".
So I repeat myself, still gently (after all I am a gentleman) but just a little louder and I say "Ma'am, there's a line here, don't pretend you don't know how to queue, please take yourself to the back."
Well at this point she sorta shuffles her walker around to face me, gives me a slightly spooky twitch of her upper lip as if she wanted to say something and forgot what it was, or she had just relieved herself in her depends...not sure which. Regardless, she just shuffled back around and encroached another couple of inches on the line directly in front of me. Well that was about enough of that.
I stepped forward, placing myself directly in front of the grandmother scented oldster preventing any further progress of the custom super deluxe walker she was shuffling around and I motioned towards the end of the line.
Well apparently that was retirement home yard code for game on. Granny threw that damn walker into fast forward and just ramming me in the left ankle. I'll admit, it hurt a little. Was wishing that I was wearing my riding boots in fact. SO, I'm thinking GAME ON MOTHBALLS, and I turn to face this wrinkled, hobbling endorsement of euthanasia.
She's apparently angry, I could tell cause her gaunt cheeks, previously the tone of slightly bleached bone had become a faint pinkish glow, almost as if her heart still pumped red blood, instead of the ashes of failure, imminent death, and bitterness which I had previously suspected.
She was determined though and with a gimpy little shuffle she rammed me again with her stroller. By this time attracting quite a bit of attention. Now I'm a patient man, and I tend to just let things go, but at this point I can hardly have this old biddy putting her walker in my pooper for the next 3 minutes here in line. SO, thinking quickly I decided to just step aside... In hindsight perhaps NOT the best option, but hell, your lean your walker firmly against my shins, I'm likely to get out of the way.
Now, I probably shouldn't have given the nearest walker wheel the little tap that I gave as I swept to my left, but hell, if I'm going to go ahead and let a little ole' lady bully me, I'm not going without a little bit of fight.
Well, in hindsight the results were predictable, though far more spectacular than I had imagined. Apparently the Crypt Keeper before me had truly been putting all her effort into punishing my shin with her aluminum Grandma Hobbler 4000. So, as I stepped away to the left, a rather sudden and graceful motion, the front of her walker launched forward with some quickness. As I had also given the front of it a bit of twitch left, it launched from under her and Newton's persistent child took over.
Granny hit with a pretty decent thud (well as decent a thud as 80lbs of withered and crunchy can make) and didn't move. Not a twitch. Hitting the hard polished floor like a wet sandbag.
You can imagine the scene, "granny down" I called with a slightly perverse giggle. (under my breath of course) But this worn out, bitter husk wasn't moving. "Well hell" I thought, this is just perfect. A rather stunned crowd had gathered, a few of whom had witnessed the events preceding a few that hadn't. Quickly, I knelt down checking for breath or pulse finding neither.
Queen started playing in my head, couldn't help it, she just "Bit the Dust" and I had the tune in my head. I'll admit to having to suppress another wry grin.
Well as there was nothing more for me to do here, and feeling much like the angel of death I stood, resolved to have my smokes and Lotto ticket. Surprisingly, the line had scattered (The Ex-Granny proving far more useful than the living one had) and right to the counter I went. The clerk, looking a little shaken and slightly alarmed, needed a small bit of prodding but eventually managed to get me my smokes and my ticket.
I pivoted away from the counter, having packed my smokes a few times on the counter, (Bang Bang Bang) and as I cast one more look over my shoulder realized I was the center of attention. I stood there for a moment, searching for the words that these sheep like suburban denizens apparently needed. I took a smoke from the pack, put it to my lips while fishing my trusty chrome zippo out of my black leather jacket "EVIL" emblazoned across it's time honored case . Flicking open my lighter with it's classic "TING" sent a chill through the fore mentioned herd of sheeple and I brought the fire to my cigarette and gave it a couple of puffs.
Eye's still locked on me, "the herding instinct is strong in these folks" I thought to myself. Folks twitched as I stepped forward again, smoke between the fingers of my left hand, flinching away as I moved, they were seemingly aware that they had a wolf in their midst. Stepping towards the motionless, crumpled Ex-Grandmother, I could hear the murmurs emanating quietly from the crowd, breaking the silence, echoing off the walls of the store with a cathedral like hush. Eye's still locked on me, seemingly too afraid to look away.
I stopped a foot or so away from the form rumpled on the floor. Taking another drag of my cigarette, I looked upon the empty husk, realizing that this is our final destination, there is no escape, no grand finally, no guarantee of grace nor dignity.
The words came to me... "NO ONE GETS OUT ALIVE", I said, "Ashes to ashes, Dust to dust" flicking the ashes of my cigarette over the still form, I turned slowly, and walked away, the gathered crowd was hushed, stunned to silence.
End Fiction
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