I notice that I always seem to have an “old lady friend.” This usually is a woman in her 60’s and above, who lives alone and has a cat (or several). I seem to rotate old ladies every year or two. They are usually widows, and a couple of the old ladies were kind of sassy. This one lady, Pat, loved to go out drinking, she could definitely drink me under the table. She’s in her late 70’s I think she said she was 78 or something. She looked great; if I was an old guy I’d be hot for her. She had a mouth like a drunken sailor, and could run around and move with agility and grace at speeds the average overweight out of shape American a third her age couldn’t. I think Pat had a cat or two. She is the receptionist at the sheltered workshop I used to work at, and she used to go into Internet dating chat rooms at work, and email me dirty jokes. I don’t see her too much, maybe once every couple of months a whole bunch of us will meet at a bar and have drinks.
As far as being old and looking good, I think after a certain age you can’t tell hold old someone is, anyway. Old is old, unless you get some sort of facial growth. The thing that sucks about being old and having a facial growth, is that the doctor’s may assess that you are so old it might be a waste of their time cutting some skin flap off of your face. Of course they’ll tell you something like “The trauma of the operation may put you at increased heart damage risk” or something similar that will definitely deter you from wasting their time.
The last time I saw Pat, it was at Applebee’s, by the mall over here in the shopping district part of town. All the waiters and waitresses were really funny, these over enthusiastic college kids running around and really busy bumping into each other. We kept them busy, our every time our waiter would bring someone at our table a drink, another person would need another drink. Pat’s great when she drinks because she gets mouthy and loud. She’s got great commentary about everything around her, and her monologue goes between visual stimuli musings and gossiping about things that are happening at her work.
Pat’s really cool. I had a couple of other old lady friends that were annoying, with annoying families and mood disorders going on. It was too much. I feel guilty because I just cut the strings, but it was really too much. Besides, I’m not completely cut off, it’s more of a “back off.” There’s another angry old lady friend Ric and I had, named Judy. She was a frigging pistol. She was 65 and the toughest lady, old or young, I have ever met. She was stacked, I’ve seen her pick up a desk on her own and move it. She would curse like you wouldn’t believe. I think her favorite word was “Fuck.” She got hit by a car, mowed over and ended up having major surgery and pins put in her leg, and still got up right after the accident and shouted “FUCK YOU, FUCKO!” at the asshole who hit-and-ran her. She told you what she wanted to, whether you liked it or not, and tacked “fuck” in her statements as a verb, adjective and noun. She also drank a lot, and started drinking early. I got drunk with her early in the day once, we were drinking Hamm’s in the can and by 11 AM I was pretty trashed and just wanted to go home and sleep. She was making pasta salad.
That’s the only time I got that drunk with Judy.