Geriatrixxx
Rose is eightysomething. We don't know eightywhat exactly, because she likes to be vague about her actual age. This is a personal habit which I seem to be drawn to lately.
She has a boyfriend named Jesse. He's ninety-two.
I was telling a friend this story the other night. We were in bed. Pillow talk with me is always strange.
Rose and Jesse wanted to watch a movie and they thought they'd borrow one from the sizeable video collection belonging to my mother and Her Gay Husband. That is, Her Gay Ex-Husband. But that's another story.
So Rose and Jesse called them up and asked if they could borrow a movie. My mother suggested Big with Tom Hanks.
(I don't actually remember if that was the movie she suggested, but it was something similar -- I think it was Tom Hanks -- and anyway, it goes well with the story so let's just go with Big.)
My mother and Her Then Gay Husband loaned Rose and Jesse the movie, but with a porno in the Big case just for kicks. I think they were probably high.
(When I asked my mom what kind of porn it was she said, "Oh, I don't even remember. Something stupid.")
Weeks went by, months even, and no one said anything about it. The prank was unsatisfying and anti-climactic. Finally, over dinner one night, my mother asked, "What ever happened with that movie of ours that you borrowed?"
This was mostly directed toward Rose. You're never really sure whether or not Jesse is aware of the conversation going on around him. He sits slumped in his chair with his chin to his chest as though he's passed out.
"Did you watch it?" My mom asked.
Before Rose could answer, Jesse suddenly came to. He pulled his head up, pointed a frail finger in the air and, with the musky voice of a ninety-two-year-old, said, "I watched it. Several times."
