Today I had a run-in with a couple of old ladies.
No, I didn't fight them - they were just mad that the others existed.
At the beginning and end of every month, I take several elderly ex-tenants and elderly acquaintances around town to pay their bills, shop for groceries, fill prescriptions, make home and auto repairs, and sometimes to just sit and talk.
But recently, a group of elderly ladies has become upset because I help the other elderly ladies.
None of these ladies is related to me, but each feels as though I am a member of their family.
Thanksgiving weekend is a tiresome time.
Why?
Because each lady expects me to spend several hours re-listening to the same stories they've been telling me for years.
When one asks the reason of my missing the main course of a meal, and my reason is that I had to fix some one's roof - all hell breaks loose.
It's getting to the point where I don't even mention that the other ladies exist at all.
But I have an elderly great-aunt to whom I often go for advice.
When I explained the problem - my aunt simply stated, "John... They are old - not dead."
She began to explain that these women probably haven't the attention of a man in some years.
She further explained that tall, light skinned brotha's with good hair were a desired commodity to those of their generation.
She further explained that being able to brag of such a one to one's friends was a form of one-upmanship.
Honestly, I should have noticed it earlier when one drunk old lady cussed me out for bringing a stripper (Whom I was doing) to her family's bar-b-que.
"What does she have on me beside age", she yelled.
"Oh... and those big ass (44DDD) tiddies.", she continued.
"And a nice hard round ass", she finished.
"And teeth. And an attractive face..." I should have added.
But really, when did these old ass ladies imagine that someone helping them was anything more than just that.
From now on - If she doesn't look like Raquel Welch, Tina Turner or Sophia Lauren at their ages - I'm not helping her!
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