Home, Home of the Strange

If there was any doubt before Tuesday evening, it has been lain to rest: old people and old age homes make me very very uncomfortable (and it almost makes me feel like a bad person).

Girlfriend had asked me several days before Tuesday (so Sunday-ish) which days of the week I had off of work at the restaurant; she wanted me to go meet Grandpa and Grandma. Monday and Tuesday were all I had.

Now, as a procrastinator, I would normally need a couple days to prep myself for this kind of encounter, but a special variable had entered the equation: Grandma was desperate. This is how the conversation with Girlfriend went.

GIRLFRIEND: What days are you off this week? I was thinking you could finally meet my Grandparents?
ME: Monday and Tuesday.
GIRLFRIEND: Okay. I was there on Friday - Grandma still really wants to meet you.
ME: Oh yeah? Well sometime soon, anyway.
GIRLFRIEND: Yeah... she was really upset when I saw her and when I was leaving she started crying and asked me if I'd bring you around. No pressure, right?
ME: Why would you tell me that? What are you trying to do to me?

So the pressure was on; and to make matters worse - they live in an old age home.

If you've never been to a 'home,' but have had some kind of post-secondary education, I can tell you that old age homes are like college residence for the eldery (minus the boozing and hopefully the rampant sex). They're all packed into dorm-style rooms and have roommates. In this case, Grandpa and Grandma were roomates and as we entered the room Grandpa was stretched out on the bed in comfortable college kid fashion. He stood up as we entered, gave me a hug, and told me that he loved me.

Yes, this was our first meeting.

Sparing the details of the actual time spent in the room chatting - because truthfully it went alright aside from the fact that old people are deaf and you have to speak to them like you're on the factory floor - we got up to leave after 15 or 20 minutes. It was okay, I was going to make it. Then Grandpa hugged me again, told me that they loved me, and planted a wet one on my neck.

Sure, it was strange.

And yes, this was our first meeting; but we were out of the room - and strange was about to take a violent turn to bizarre.

Two doors down from Grandparent's dorm was a woman, slowly rolling out of her doorway in a wheelchair with a spray bottle similar to those you might water a plant with, and several nurse aides on either side of her. We made eye contact - it was an evil I was not familiar with.

NURSE AIDE: There's a couple!
NURSE AIDE 2: Yeah, Get'em!

At this point I'm wondering if this is actually happening. I knew from that moment what was probable, but confronted with the situation just couldn't believe it.

Wheelchair Woman let loose with the spray bottle, which happened, ironically, to be set strategically to "laser," rather than "mist" mode. Girlfriend took it right in the forehead. Wheelchair Woman then turned to me, squeezing the trigger.

At this point I'd abandoned Girlfriend who was, for some unexplored reason, squealing in some kind of terrified pleasure; I realized, now, that if you're ever caught in a burning building with me, you should probably play for your own survival; because clearly that's my own perogative, so heads up to the rest of you.

I made it out of there just a little wet, but with a freshly renewed sense of "I'm never going to an old age home ever again." Especially when I'm old and in need of a home. Fuck it, I'll live under a bridge.

Old people aside, it's time for a little update on my filming plans for this summer. I stopped by a couple places this week to get a location for holding auditions. First estimates put my old High School at about $850 for 6 hours over 2 days. By the time I'd picked my face up off the floor the secretary had fiddled with some settings on her computerized form and knocked it down to $56; I think I can swing that. All that's left is to confirm that with her, set up a little advertising for the audition dates, and wait and see what the turnout's like. I honestly have no idea as to how many people will show up, but I'm hoping for more than 5.

Hopefully in a month or so I'll have enough going on for a full post on my filming schedule, but for the moment you're allowed 1 or 2 paragraphs. After last night's 3am close I'm just too burnt out to give you more. Especially after a 9am staff meeting.

On the way home from that staff meeting though, I drove past a pre-teen with a sign reading "CAR WASH." Like most kid-operated car washes I sped on by, but what intrigued me about this one was, as I hit the gas, the kid ran out into the four lane road towards me, doing some kind of shoeless tap-dance. Lucky for me (and my five year streak of never striking anything with a car), he came from the other side of the road and just didn't have the speed to get anywhere near me.

That noted, I hope I'm not reduced to holding a yellow sign reading "AUDITIONS" and tap dancing barefoot in the road sometime at the end of May.

They may just think I'm crazy enough to throw in a home.