Illustration by Cleopatria Peterson, Fashion Communication ’14.
I meet some beautiful human beings at the alcohol store.
One of them was named Gretel. A 74-year-old lass, with silver and white locks and porcelain teeth. She stood next to me, taking shot samples of a new tequila that had just been released.
“I like the one on the left,” she said, with her creaky voice and pointing with her left ring finger, almost as if she were intentionally showing off her giant rock. “It’s got bite. I like bite. I need some bite in my life, whatever left there is!”
There is something about the elderly that is just…just…filled with unfiltered, raw, beautiful life. They don’t care what you think. They really don’t. For example, while waiting in line to pay for my Whitehaven Sauvignon Blanc, an 88-year-old lady by the name of Alison, steers her cart into my bum. “I don’t have a lot of time left! Tick tock! Tick tock!” The cart filled with vodka bottles clink and clank against each other as the cart meets my scrumptious bottom. It’s true, they don’t have a lot of time. They ought to be living their lives to the fullest – say what they feel, do as they always wanted. Seize the day. Tomorrow, you may just keel over and die.
Alison taps on my shoulder. “I have a grandson your age. He likes Asian girls. You seem to fit the bill. Can I hook you two up?” She smiles too widely as if her dentures are about to pop out, and stares me down from top to bottom. I am left with a predicament. Turn down an offer by a sweet old lady, or pretend I didn’t hear her? “Do you need a hearing aid? I said, he likes Asian girls. And you ain’t so bad!” I almost wanted to respond with, “WHAAAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY!!! I’M SORRY I LEFT MY HEARING AID AT HOME!”
“Next customer in line!”
Saved by the cashier. I slide over my ID (because as an Asian girl of 24, I still look 12 for at least another 20 years), slip in my credit card, and off I go. I swear to God; when I turn 70 years of age, I will make sure I will wreak as much havoc as these ladies and make the next generation feel so uncomfortable that they will love me. That’s my retirement plan.
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