The only reason that I moved into the 'Assisted Living Community' at all was so that I wouldn't become a burden to my grandson, Jeffery and his family. I had just turned 80, and hell I knew there were things I just couldn't do on my own anymore. I had always sort of thought that when I got to be too old to be self-sufficient, that I would buy a one-way ticket to the Himalayas; go on a trekking expedition and quietly slip away onto some glacier. When it came right down to it though, I wanted to see another fall. I have always loved the changing of the seasons, and fall is my favorite time of year. So, the week after my 80th birthday, I moved in.
The hell with it kids, let's just call it what it is. An old folk's home. It was a nice enough place, don't mistake me. Jeffery has money; he has a company that does something with computers, so when a room became vacant at this place, he was able to move me in with no problems. It was a nice place, no mistake, but a home? No.
The room became vacant? Well that's one way to put it. It's not like the previous tenant had up and moved, or had gotten a job in a different part of the country. No siree kiddos; she was dead. Bit the big one, gone tits up, pushing up daisies, whatever you want to call it, may she rest in peace she was d-e-a-d. When you are 80 years old, death becomes a very real thing. I'd never taken the idea of dying too seriously, and I've had a few close scrapes let me tell you; but even now I have trouble getting too worked up about it. People die, that's the way it works. Life goes on.
Jeffery was my only living family, and I didn't want him to worry. Nick, my only son, had died in the Vietnam conflict. He was a captain in the infantry, and I still keep a photo of him on my dresser. Kyle, my husband, had passed away almost twelve years before.
I didn't have very much to move in with me. I've never been a collector of possessions, and as I got older I seemed to shed more and more. I had my clothes, of course, and my photo albums and wedding ring. I also brought along my mountaineering axe, and skis; a sentimental reminder of my younger days. There were only two things that worried me: my weed and my vibrators.
I can't say that I smoke pot just for my arthritis, but it does help and I'm sure it's better for me than those damn pills. As for my vibrators, well, hopefully the staff would understand that even a decrepit old lady needs to get her jollies.
My new roommate was named Alice, and boy she was a cutey! I had surely never thought that I would be thinking lustful thoughts about a 70 year old lady, never mind one ten years my junior, but that was exactly what I was doing when she introduced herself. It's all about the eyes, or at least that's what it's all about for me. When I was younger it was about some other parts too; but Alice had beautiful eyes that made my heart flutter. Her eyes were sea green and full of life, and they made me want her more than I had wanted anyone in ages.
I'd know, of course, that I was a lesbian ever since I was a little girl; since before I had known that there was a word for it. Kyle and I had loved each other in our own way: we were best friends and partners, and yes we even had some fun times in bed and raised a fine son together. But let's be frank: Kyle liked sucking dick, and I liked licking pussy; and back in those days you just didn't 'come out'. So we had an arrangement, and if I do say so, it worked pretty well until cancer took him away from me.
Alice was another widow; it was a pretty common affliction around the place. She was a tiny little thing, thin as a rail but full of energy and life. I really don't think she belonged in the retirement home at all, but I expect that she too didn't want to be a burden on her family. We got along really well from the get-go. She was bright and sunny, and hilariously innocent about so many things. I would have loved to have shown her around Paris in the fifties. We soon became good friends.
"I like you so much better than my old roommate" Alice told me one afternoon "She was such an old stick in the mud!"
I started it of course. I've never been a particularly well-behaved woman. I'll tell you though: I may have been attracted to Alice from the start, but I really didn't set out to seduce her.
Now, I don't have many vices. Well no, that's really not true at all. Let's just say I have a lot fewer vices now than I did when I was young. One of those vices is that I like to go to a titty bar every couple of months. Call me a dirty old lady, but I just love to watch pretty young dancers get naked and shake their stuff. Now a strip club isn't the kind of place you can go in the old people's bus. Fortunately I can still drive myself and my grandson Jeffery agreed to lend me his minivan one Friday. I don't know what I'll do when I can't drive anymore.
"Where are you off to tonight Bea?" asked Alice
"A titty bar." I blithely told her.
"Where?" She must have thought she had misheard me.
"A titty bar" I repeated "You know, a strip joint, a go-go club."
"Are you serious?" she gaped "I can never tell when you are joking. You're not joking are you? I can't believe you're serious. Bea you are too much! I've never in my life been to a place like that."
"Well why don't you come with?" I asked "It'll do you good to get out anyway. It'll be fun."
"I don't know… What will people think?"
"Who cares what people think! Come along and keep me company. We'll have a blast."
We did have a blast too. Never mind that we were almost the only females in the place who weren't dancing; and that we were the oldest people there by a solid fourty years at least, we had a good old time. I sprang for a lap dance for Alice. The girl gave her a sweet, if gentle performance. We almost split our sides laughing when she rubbed her amble boobs in Alice's face. By the time I drove us back to the home it was after midnight.
