Damn mission!

Last night I was at the pseudo grocery store (i.e. front for liquor and lotto sales) and an old bum in a wheelchair outside the store said, “Hey commere. Can you give an old guy five or ten bucks so he can get a hotel room?” I said let me see, and I looked in my wallet and gave him ten bucks. He was grateful and said he would always remember me. I said the same, and then he said, “You know where a hotel is?” I said, “I don’t know, but there’s a mission . . .” He says, “I don’t want no mission – damn people doin’ dope in the corner!” So I didn’t know what to say and went home

Something to cluck about

November 22, 2019
Bloomington, Illinois
The Downtowner

I came in from Kroger’s the other day and there were two things in the Community Room:

One of them was a feller named Tom, which is short for Tom the Guy Who Got Run Over By a Truck 11 Years Ago. The other was a bag of bagels. I went to take one bagel from the bag because I didn’t want to take them all, and it is share and share alike. Tom says, “You should take the bag.” I says “How come? I only want one or two.” He says “Those women won’t take the bag if someone else has opened it.” I says, “Well, I don’t want the whole bag.” He says “You better take the whole bag.” I says “Well, maybe I will take two, but I see that the other bagels don’t match the one I just took.” There is a pause – perhaps a pregnant one.

Then I says, “Well, my bagels need to match,” and I go through the whole bag, examining each bagel until I find another one that almost matches the pattern and size of the seeds on top of my first choice. Then I take it and put the rest of the bagels back in the bag. For a finishing touch I put one in upside-down. “There,” I says, that will give them something to cluck about!”

Later, I think, “Man, old Tom sure is scared a them women! Sheesh! He is like an old woman himself!"

At Mensa Manor, life goes on. Long after the thrill of living has gone:

https://youtu.be/h04CH9YZcpI

Feeling magnanimous

October 22, 2019

Bloomington, Illinois

The Downtowner

I walked into the community room and saw an old gal I knew, and we exchanged pleasantries about the day.

“What are you up to, Linda?”

“I am watching a little TV, and then I will make some pork chops and potatoes and broccoli.”

“Oh yeah?” says I. “Are you gonna cook them up with cream of mushroom soup?”

“Ooo - No,” she says. “I’m gonna bake them. I don’t like mushrooms!”

“Well,” says I. “I like to make them with cream of mushroom soup – thow the pork chops in a casserole with some rice and mix it all up.”

“Well,” she says, “I don’t like mushrooms.”

I says, “Well, that is all right. I won’t take that as a personal affront.”

Then she says, “Oh, that is so kind of you.”

“No problem,” says I, and we went on to the next chapter in our respective lives.