It is 60 years in the future and Nancy Drew Nickerson has
just been committed to an assisted living facility by her children. Five
children and not one of them stepped up to take the poor old 104 year old Nancy
into their homes. After all those years of breastfeeding THIS was her
repayment. Nancy sighed. It wouldn't be so bad. She had an
assigned seat in the dining hall next to an oddly familiar woman; thank
goodness too, because that nasty old crusty Chrissy tried to steal her mashed
yams on her first night at the facility.
Hunched Lisa was 94 years old and Nancy's newest luncheon
friend. They spent hours talking of the pill girls who came in multiple
times a day to deliver their meds. Nancy mentioned to Hunched that she
really needed to get her hair done but the salon didn't have openings for
another week. None of Nancy's children bothered to take her to her
personal stylist before admitting her to the home. Hunched told Nancy she
noticed the gray roots. Nancy said it had been 6 weeks since she last had
the hair dyed jet black. Hunched commented that there was not much hair
to dye. She recommended a wig catalogue. What? cried Nancy??
Yes, said Hunched. You don't think this is natural do you? Nancy
quickly set about circling her favorites and called her oldest daughter.
BUY ME A WIG. Nancy demanded but it sounded more like WHY ME A PIG so she
put her teeth in and demanded it again. BUY ME A WIG.
Old Nancy had captured the apple of Big Ed's eye upon
move-in day. She sat demurely in a corner while her great great
grandchildren moved in her turn of the century (2000s) furniture. Ed hit
on her. He was in to her. Ned had long since passed leaving Nancy a
lonely old sad widow. Ed had started to spark something in her she hadn't
felt in years. Or maybe that was just gas. Nancy mentioned to
Hunched about Ed. Oh him! she retorted! He hits on all the
freshman. Don't get your hopes up. He has full blown
dementia. He'll make you promises and forget them the second from his
lips.
So Nancy spritzed on another hit of her White Shoulders perfume, wheeled herself back to the dining hall and took
her assigned seat. She watched and waited as the other wheelers and
rollers made their slow glide down the hall. She was sporting her
new wig. She had in her teeth. She was ready to be the one Ed remembered.
***addendum commentary from current day Tall Lisa:
1.
Why does it have to
be “Hunched Lisa”…that’s crap…well, maybe I should start drinking milk.
2.
This hair IS and
ALWAYS will be real!!! I’ll just use the wigs as accessories as my
arthritic feet will not allow for the hooker heels anymore.
3.
WHY AM I IN THE
NURSING HOME BEFORE YOU!?!?! Again, that’s crap. I will NOT be the
veteran in the nursing home when you are admitted!!! On second thought I
do hear they host a mean happy hour.
4.
Speaking of happy
hour, at 94 friggin years old I will not be your lunch buddy, I will be your
happy hour buddy. I expect us to be well manicured, real hair wig
wearing, accessorized to the nines, lipstick wearing, alcoholics.
Period. End of discussion. Give me something to look forward to.
5.
And finally, Hunched
has already had Ed. He was a good ride, but nothing she would go back to
for seconds. She now only has relations with the hot, much younger
orderlies.
