The Geezer Monster - Episode 3

 

Karen - The Geezer Monster’s Daughter

In episode 1 of The Geezer Monster, I tried to explain the phenomenon that plagues many senior citizens in today’s world - the paranormal ogre, known as The Geezer Monster, that stalks us. I explained that The Geezer Monster is a powerful force from the dark side. It delights in making life difficult, if not downright dangerous, for those of us who suffer from a diminished capacity in some or many facets of our everyday existence. Karen is its malevolent offspring, whose narcissistic viewpoint is that geezers are merely impediments to the smooth flow of modern society and should be dealt with in the same manner as an unwanted pregnancy.

Many geezers have adopted a great fear of The Geezer Monster and a severe dislike of Karen. These folks have allowed these two nemeses, the Monster and his daughter, to exert unnecessary control over their lives by granting them more power than they deserve. Karen can be ignored by adopting an attitude of pity rather than scorn. The Geezer Monster can be held at bay, if not defeated, by understanding its methods and turning its parapsychology against it. Let me explain …

Karen: “Will you please hurry up and get out of the way so I can order my latte and get on with my life, you old fogey!” 

Geezer: “Yes, young lady, I’ll gladly expedite my activities if you’ll provide me with some shits to give about your needs.”

Karen: “Quit shambling along the cart path, I’m late for an appointment at my Brazilian wax salon.”

Geezer: “So sorry, M’Lady, the world will surely be a better place when it doesn’t have to look at the pet orangutan peeking out from your tennis shorts.”

As I explained in Episode 2, The Geezer Monster can be at least temporarily nullified if met with a coordinated effort from like-minded compadres focused on a singular goal of thwarting his mischief. Likewise, Karen can be neutralized by a little light-hearted “in your face” retort. Her evil psyche dissolves like the Wicked Witch of the West when sprinkled with holy water, and we Geezers have been around long enough to have heard them all.

After a regular Saturday-morning breakfast convocation with my ROMEO (Retired Old Men Eating Out) chapter, I needed to stop by a gas station to fill up the car and the can for the lawnmower. The station I normally use has pumps oriented for vehicles with fill ports on the right side and other pumps positioned for those with fill ports on the left. I like the fact that my car has its port on the right because there are fewer of us and we tend to find unoccupied pumps more often. It is possible to use what I will call a “right side pump” on a vehicle with the port on the left side but the driver needs to have a relatively small vehicle, needs to park in a slightly unorthodox way, and needs to struggle a bit to get the full length of the hose positioned around/over the vehicle. Most reasonable “left side drivers” simply wait a few minutes longer for a pump with the correct orientation to open up.

I pulled up to a right-side pump, in my right-side vehicle, clearly within the zone of reasonableness for my intended activity, and left plenty of room for another right-side vehicle to pull up to the unoccupied right-side pump behind me. I even chose between the forward of the two unoccupied pumps because leaving the pump behind me free would make it easier for someone to use it instead of having to pull around to use a pump in front of me. Most Geezers are pretty considerate. Now, I was moving right along, neither hurrying nor dawdling, with my filling of both the vehicle and the lawnmower can when Karen pulled up behind me.

I immediately noticed that her vehicle was somewhat larger than the average 18-wheeler even though it was shaped in the likeness of a standard minivan. I also could not help but notice, despite my geriatrically diminished auditory capacity, that several children inside the minivan/tank were engaged in a World-Class shouting contest. The ear-splitting screeching emanating from Karen’s vehicle was clearly, IMHO, a misdemeanor disturbance of the peace but I decided the reporting of such a violation, with subsequent red tape, would be less than worthwhile. Besides, I was almost done with my fueling chore.

As I was returning the fuel nozzle to the pump I noticed Katen struggling with the hose on her pump, trying to get it to wrap around her oversized vehicle, which was, remember, a left-side vehicle parked at a right-side pump. I giggled to myself, congratulating Karma this morning for rewarding Karen so quickly for her narcissistic impatience in choosing the unoccupied right-side pump instead of waiting for a more appropriate left-side pump. At that point, I got “The Look” from Karen. I know all about The Look because I get it at home from time to time and SWMBO (She Who Must Be Obeyed) is not to be trifled with when dispensing The Look. This helped me decide that discretion was the better part of valor as I considered an appropriate response to Karen’s visage, so I started to close the back door of my vehicle in preparation for a quiet and orderly departure.

At that point, I heard Karen say something that was distorted by the continuing screeching of the mini-devils in the minivan and I hesitated, as I usually do, to try to understand what has been said to me. There was no way I could have helped her anyway, considering how cavalierly she had parked the behemoth. Karen misinterpreted my hesitation as indifference, I suppose, and, dropping the fueling hose, she approached me closer with a demand in a very strong tone: “You could move your car out of my way, old man, instead of gawking at me!”

Now, I’d just come from an enjoyable gathering with my ROMEO comrades and was feeling moderately at peace with the world. This worked in Karen’s favor. Instead of adopting my standard anti-Karen defense protocol as described above, a brainstorm of unimaginable brilliance came over me. Lord only knows how I could have devised such an ingenious response in such a short time. I’d had a very nice, very filling breakfast only a short time before and was experiencing gastric pressure of a significant but completely manageable magnitude. Had no one arrived while I was fueling, I had planned to add some of my personal probiotic aroma to the scent of fuel already permeating the local atmosphere. Being polite, however, I clinched the geriatric sphincter when I saw what I thought was a young lady get out of the vehicle behind me. Now that the misconception had been clarified about how the term “Lady” should be applied in this case, my ad hoc Karen Defense protocol was locked and loaded.

Upon hearing “... out of my way, old man …” my anus took the shape of Louis Armstrong’s lips on his trumpet, the sphincter released,  and several liters of high-pressure organic flatulence escaped in a loud refrain that sounded a lot like The Battle Hymn of the Republic. The look on Karen’s face was memorable. I turned and walked away.

She could probably make a case for assault. I’m waiting for the police to show up but they haven’t yet. They’re probably laughing too hard. If I have to do time for my aromatic gesture it’ll be worth it. I’ll become the Joan of Arc of the Geezer Nation.

Find the next episode HERE