Author's Notes
Ethan is a bored retiree with a past he'd rather keep bottled up. What he was not anticipating was just how hard it was to keep still with all the time he now had on his hands. That was until he saw a Black Loofah swinging on the hip of a cute thing.
Expanding my horizons into the Mature category a bit. Would love to hear your feedback and what your thoughts are in the comments!
Thanks Kenji as always for being an amazing editor!
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The Black Loofah
Cicada song, the trilling of golf carts, and the seasoned laughter of the golden years of life. Such was the existence of a retiree, where the biggest worry to have was finding the optimal parking spot at Plenish Grocery. The last electric whine of the battery ceased, as Ethan Locke removed the key from the ignition of his Fairway Cruiser. Sitting back, he took a warm breath as the humid condensation of life in southern Westoria collected on his brow. Around him, similar golf carts and other buggies sat idle outside of the local grocery fare. Many of which sported an eclectic mix of flags, decor, and most notoriously-- loofahs.
Ethan was a reserved person, had been for his whole life, both personally and professionally. He made it a point to never wear nor tout any sort of symbolism on either clothing, car, or cart. He didn't want people to see what he was about by looking at some bumper sticker on his car, or a flag outside his garage. He wanted to go unnoticed, unverifiable, and uncommitted to any cause or creed. Most of all, he found the loofah to be particularly contemptuous.
In his six months since moving to The Preserve Retirement Community, he could not understand the proclivity of displaying advertisements of your sexual preferences for the world to see. The proverbial "open for business" sign that was Loofah Code in the Preserve. A rainbow of such colored loofahs advertised anything from those who liked to watch, to those with submissive tendencies. From the red-colored loofahs of those open to anything and everything, to pink loofahs of those open to fully swapping partners. It made his stomach roll at times, especially seeing his retired peers who outwardly advertised such things. They should know better.
It was not hard to find, either; walking through the parking lot to the store entrance, he could spot at least a dozen carts with such outward displays. Perhaps the rumors he had heard before moving here, about this being the venereal disease capital of Corvusia were true. Certainly, his neighbors wanted to live their best life in their later years.
For now, as he'd adjusted to retired life, Ethan took a humid, deep breath and chose to ignore it. Perhaps, the transition from serious work to carefree life made him a bit jaded. The frightening thought that with enough idleness he could become one of the loofah-touting floozies of this community, scared him for a moment, but he would never.
"They let anybody in here." The age-old adage thrown about by middle-aged dads the world over caught Ethan off guard, as he moved between the gradient of temperatures that separated the warm outside to the cooler AC of the grocer.
"Trick is to not give 'em a choice," Ethan responded, with a small smirk. Throwing out his hand to meet his old friend's embrace.
An older couple, greyed, wrinkled, but modest-- and thankfully absent of any loofahs-- stood before him in front of the BOGO bin at the entrance to the store. Ethan was particularly hopeful to not see their golf cart, out of some dread his perception of his old co-worker and friend would be broken.
"You settled in yet? I told you I would come help unpack boxes."
"Yes please, get him out of the house and working!" the wife jested, as she poked her husband's arm.
"Ha... sorry, Julia, but I'm all unpacked. I have been since day two."
"Hmph, no surprise. You always were efficient back at the company."
Ethan's smirk wavered, trying to conceal himself. As a defensive mechanism he changed the subject.
"Just enjoying the day out, Bill?"
"Ha... I always like goading you. It's gonna take a while for you to change."
"'Til I'm dead."
Both Bill and Julia laughed heartily.
"Oh come on, Ethan... relax a little, you've earned it." Julia brushed his arm kindly, a warm smile on her face.
"I'm still young. Still a lot I could do."
"Don't be bitter, Ethan. Count yourself lucky to retire at fifty-five. Not a lot of us get the privilege."
"I wouldn't call it that."
"My friend, think of the bright side, find yourself a woman while you are still fifty-five years young and handsome, settle down, travel, keep yourself busy with things other than memories of work."
"Ah, like that cute thing we saw in the soup aisle?" Julia giggled.
"Ha! Yes, like that."
"What's so funny?"
"Oh nothing... just some girl, young thing, walking around the store, loofah on her hip."
"A black loofah."
"Oh gods..."
"Eh, you get them from time to time. Girls, even boys, who come to the community looking for a more... mature encounter."
"Oh, okay, whoa there, not you both, too."
"Oh no, no, don't get us wrong, not our style. But for how casual it is, might be right up your alley."
"Not likely."
"I bet a man like you would be a perfect match for her desires."
"Really, Julia?" Ethan was growing tired, maybe this place was wrong for him.
"Really..."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because of the black loofah."
"What does that even mean? I haven't planned to learn loofah code."
"Really? A discerning man like you hasn't cracked the code yet?"
Ethan just stared, no plans to entertain that question.
"Well, buddy, I'll give you this one." He patted Ethan on the shoulder, coming alongside him and pointing towards aisle four where the soup lay waiting. "The black loofah... means she wants to be dominated and used. Sort of a lack of dignity, I guess. Like I said, it isn't my style."
"Oh, but you think it's mine?"
Both Bill and Julia laughed at the notion, shaking their heads in unison as they began to slowly step away. It made Ethan a little annoyed that the couple was having a gag at his expense, but with a rub of his temple, he decided it was best to let it go.
"Later, Locke," Bill said, without even a turn of his head. The older couple had a laugh at his expense all the way out to the parking lot.
Collecting himself, Ethan would move on, just as silently and discreetly as he could.
Thoughts of the soup aisle occupied his mind for a time, and of this alleged black loofah. Some grim curiosity occupied him, as he gathered his deli meat and produce. Centering himself, he tried to focus on other things, but therein lay the problem. Retired, nary a job or family, what should he focus on?
That fear of nothingness hung over him like a cloud, as he entered the maw of the soup aisle. Grasping on to a faint memory of meaning and purpose, he struggled within himself, 'til the black mesh ball of fabric hanging from a jutted hip caught his eye.
"You know. You ever been to Maragesh? I have a whole collection of jewels the girls there used to wear dancing. Got it during my time working for the oil company. The most beautiful thing there, a sort of necklace that hung along the girls hips, and bright colorful jewels hanging above their navels as they danced circles around us, bopping their hips side to side."
An older man, amidst a long-winded and tiresome story, drew his finger across the supple bare skin of a girl's midriff as he outlined just where such a jewel would be. As he blathered on, he rested his full palm on the girl's tummy, stroking it with his thumb as she hung close to him. She was far younger than he, so much so he wondered if this girl should even be here alone. Her soft face and innocent eyes happily lingered within the older man's grasp as she flaunted her young body in a black spaghetti-strap crop-top and baggy sweats.
"You know. One of those jewels would look fantastic on a beauty like you. Want to try?" The older man smiled, his finger strumming her belly button as she smiled brightly and prepared to nod.
"Gideon." Ethan cut through the awkward sexual tension hoarsely, as he approached unannounced.
"Oh! Shoot! Ethan." The old man, bald head glistening in the LED light from above, separated from the girl some, but not totally, in surprise. A rather guilty expression on his wrinkled face as he caught his breath.
"The hell, Ethan, you, you scared me. And Tilly!"
