“For the last time, Jenny, it’s his water pill. It’s not the same as drinking bottled water,” Liz complains with a sigh.
“Jesus. JESUS!” Drew shouts, throwing his arms up in the air in frustration. “Will you look at us? What the fuck happened to us? We used to get drunk and make poor decisions. We used to get drunk and get kicked out of public places. We used to play dinner roll baseball. We used to wear awesome shirts that said things like Hello, my name is Slutbag McFuckstick. We used to go to BronyCon.”
“You used to go to BronyCon. We just pointed and laughed at you for being ridiculous,” Liz laughs. “And might I remind you, you’re currently wearing a hat that says I ain’t dead yet, motherfuckers.”
Drew reaches up and touches the brim of his hat.
“This is a pretty awesome hat, if I do say so myself. But it’s a fucking fishing hat. It has fishing lures on it, Liz. I am wearing an old person’s fishing hat and I HATE FISHING. Fishing is for old people.”
“We are old people,” Carter says with a sigh as he adjusts the volume on his hearing aid and sits up in his chair. “Is it three o’clock yet? They’re serving strawberry Jell-O and meatloaf at dinner.”
“JESUS CHRIST!” Drew yells, forcing all of us to give apologetic looks to the handful of people in the pool who stop what they’re doing to stare at us. “Are you guys even hearing yourselves right now? Crocheting, casino trips, bingo, mid-morning naps, Jazzercise, dinner at fucking three o’clock in the afternoon, where all they serve is soft, mushy food so our dentures don’t fall out.”
“But...strawberry Jell-O is delicious,” my husband mumbles.
“The point is, I get it. We’re getting up there in age. But why the hell are we acting like it? This is not who we are. We are not these people. We are people who fuck shit up. We’re all just sitting around waiting to die,” Drew complains.
“He’s right, you know,” Jenny nods. “Sure, we moved out here to Florida to relax, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still have fun. Our kids are all grown up; they’re living their own lives and having fun doing it, and they’ve spooked us.”
“Christ, Jenny. They didn’t spook us. It’s ghosted. They ghosted us. And they didn’t ghost us. They visit all the time, call practically every day, and they’re busy running our Seduction and Snacks empire,” Liz reminds her.
“Whatever. I’m just saying, we need to live a little. Remember what it was like to have fun. Real fun. Not old people fun.”
I really, really wanted to take a nap before dinner, but the things Jenny and Drew are saying are kind of making me a little sad. What has happened to us? We moved to Florida and suddenly we’re not fun anymore? What the hell is that about? We started a company that sells sex toys, for God’s sake. Our business is all about fun. When the six of us hung out back in the day, we had so much fun we almost got arrested. We had so much fun it resulted in a few of us going to the emergency room. Drew’s right. We are just sitting around, waiting to die. And like his stupid fishing hat says, we ain’t dead yet, motherfuckers.
“I could handle a little fun,” Jim suddenly states.
“I do have a brand new medical marijuana card for my bursitis I haven’t put to good use yet,” Liz muses.
“If we’re fucking shit up, can we still stop by the kitchen and get Jell-O before we get started?” Carter questions.
“Before we start making plans, Drew needs to take his stool softener,” Jenny announces to the group, leaning over the arm of her chair and grabbing her purse from the ground.
She sets it in her lap and digs around inside until she finds the blue, plastic, seven-day pill box, pulling it out and popping open the lid for today.
“I got you new ones since the old ones were huge and way too hard for you to swallow,” Jenny informs Drew.
“THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!” he shouts as he takes the little brown square from her fingers.
“You’ll like these ones better, baby. They’re chocolate chews!”
Drew holds the piece of medical chocolate in front of his face and studies it for a few minutes, before his eyes light up and he gets a devious look on his face.
“Claire, sweetie, honey, woman who my best friend knocked up at a frat party in college...do you and or Liz by any chance have a few boxes of sex toys sitting around in a closet at your condo?” Drew asks before popping the chocolate chew in his mouth.
“Why in the hell would we have boxes of sex toys? We don’t run the company anymore, remember? All the free samples and excess product goes to our kids now. I have my own personal stash in my nightstand drawer, same with Liz,” I tell him.
“Eeew, I don’t want anything from your own personal stash with your old lady vagina juices on them,” Drew shudders.
“I have a box of butt plugs, two boxes of bullets, a half a box of strap-ons, four small boxes of nubby finger vibrators, and three boxes of g-spot touch finger vibes,” Jenny announces proudly.
“I knew there was a reason I married you,” Drew tells her, leaning over his chair to give her a kiss.
Drew pulls back from Jenny and points at Liz.
“Go put that medical marijuana card to good use and get us some awesome shit.”
“I can do that. I just have to check with Kevin and see if one of the golf carts are available,” Liz replies.
Kevin is a wonderful young man that works as the activities director for Park Summit. He not only schedules all sorts of things to do for the people who live here, but he also handles the schedule for the fleet of golf carts the retirement community owns that residents are free to use if we need to make a quick trip to the store or want to get away and go somewhere else for dinner.
“No golf cart!” Drew yells. “Jesus Christ, we’re trying to not be old. Only old people drive golf carts to the fucking marijuana dispensary. Take an Uber. Or a taxi. For shit’s sake, don’t tool up in there in a God damn golf cart. You people are a disgrace.”
Drew then turns to me and gives me a chin lift.
“Think you can whip up some baked goods for us when Liz gets back?”
It’s been a while since I’ve been in a kitchen, and I have to say, I really miss it. I was responsible for the “snacks” part of Seduction and Snacks, and my recipes are world famous now.
“You’re damn right I can,” I tell him with a smile.
“Perfect. Carter, Jim, and I will handle everything else.”
“What exactly does everything else entail?” Carter asks.
“Duh. Inviting people to our rave, dumbass,” Drew says with a roll of his eyes.
“Do people still rave? Is this still a thing? I feel like this is not going to end well,” Liz says.
“When has anything we’ve ever done not ended well?” Drew asks.
We all start to open our mouths and he immediately holds his hands up in the air.
“Never mind. Don’t answer that. This won’t be like any of those other times, I swear. We’re going to show all these other old ass people what it’s like to have fun again. Get your crotchety, wrinkled old asses moving, and we’ll meet back here in three hours.”
We all push ourselves up from our chairs and as everyone else disperses, Carter slips his hand into mine and pulls me up against him.
“If we die today, I hope you know how much I love you,” he tells me with a smile, leaning down and kissing the tip of my nose.
Even after all these years together, this man still gives me butterflies.
“We’re not going to die today. Didn’t you hear Drew’s prophecy? We’re not dying for a good twenty more years after an intense game of Metamucil pong,” I remind him.
“STOP MAKING OUT IN PUBLIC BEFORE I PUKE, FUCKERS! LET’S GO! TIME’S A WASTING! WE’VE GOT SHIT TO FUCK UP AND POOR CHOICES TO MAKE!” Drew shouts from over by the door that leads into the main section of condos.
“Scratch that. We’re probably going to die today,” I mutter as Carter and I pull apart and make our way over to the building.