Portland, Oregon 2016
I am an old woman that lives a very generic, vanilla type
lifestyle. I am not wild, adventurous, thrill seeking, or crazy. Well, the jury
may still be out on that last one. The only swinging I have ever done in my
life is on an actual swing at a playground as a child. Even my daily diet is
repetitive, bland, and lackluster. I have always been extremely modest and
conservative. I get up at 6:30 a.m. sharp every morning and go to bed at 11:00 p.m.
every night like clockwork. I walk my dog three miles a day, rain or shine. A
wild day for me would consist of eating a large ice cream cone with sprinkles
on top in place of dinner, drinking a glass of wine, and staying up past
midnight. Jellybeans and Peeps are my guilty pleasures. My life could be aptly
compared to watching grass grow. By the way, sadly, my grass died last summer. I
miss my grass! Most of the time, my life
is routine, unimaginative, predictable, and downright boring. The afternoon of May 5, 2016 certainly proved
to be an exception to the above premise. That Thursday my life bore a striking
resemblance to a scene taken straight out of a sleazy romance novel and I,
Grandma, was the sexy seductress.
This is how it all began, and I promise to tell the truth,
the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
The city of Portland received a $10,000 grant from FEMA to
provide and install 400 Flash-Shake-and-Wake smoke detectors for its hard of
hearing and deaf residents. The State of Oregon notified me of this opportunity
since I am already in possession of a phone for the hearing impaired provided
at no cost by a government agency. I
went online and completed the required application. A Certification of
Eligibility documented by a professional was also required to complete the
process. I printed it off and presented it to my audiologist for his signature.
I am deaf in my right ear due to a disease called otosclerosis. I have lost
almost 70% of the hearing on the left side. I do wear a hearing aid in that ear
and for the most part, it makes me functional in social settings. I also read
lips. At night I remove my aid and sleep on my left side. As a result, I am
incapable of hearing anything including the “wake the dead” decibels produced
by my alarm clock or the smoke detector. If either goes off, my dog dances on
my head to let me know. Therefore, I
jumped at this opportunity. It would not only give me piece of mind, but my
kids as well. They fret over me living alone and not being able to hear alarms.
I was notified by email that I had been approved to
receive the special system and that two firefighters would arrive at my home on
May 5th at 1:00 p.m. to install the equipment. A home safety audit would also
be conducted.
As promised, the firefighters arrived promptly at 1:00 p.m.
As I watched them “strutting their stuff” up the path, my heart skipped a beat.
They both looked oh so “fine” in their uniforms. As the hunks got closer to my
door, I had to catch my breath! They introduced themselves as inspectors
McDreamy and Studmuffin. Up close and personal they were so Hunky Dunky
Do!!! Oh if I was only forty years
younger. I had to reel my wandering mind back into reality.
Inspector McDreamy spoke in an extremely loud voice that I was
sure everyone within a mile of my house could hear. “DOES A HARD OF HEARING PERSON LIVE HERE?” With a dumbfounded look on my face, I
nodded in the affirmative and pointed to myself as a form of identification.
“Smooth move Grandma,” I thought. I knew I still had some game left somewhere,
and I desperately needed it now! He continued speaking at glass breaking
decibels, and I decided to go with the flow and take some Aleve later for the
headache he was giving me. The sensual buzz was gone; negated by the decibel
situation. It just was not very romantic at all.
I escorted my men friends into my boudoir to set up my
system. I tried to remember the last time I had had two hot men in my room at
the same time. The answer had the same effect as getting a bucket of cold water
dumped on my head. NEVER! OMG, I am so
boring. I was determined that I would not let this opportunity slip through my
fingers! Enthusiasm renewed, I was more than happy to comply with the
firefighters’ next request when he said, “WOULD
YOU PLEASE LIE DOWN ON THE BED FOR US?” He did not have to ask me twice,
and I feverishly leapt onto the bed almost missing my intended mark. He was still yelling, but that was a small
price to pay for the anticipated outcome. Quickly I took an inventory to make
sure I hadn’t hurt myself in my overzealous leap for love. Nothing broken, I
gazed up into their smoldering seductive eyes. The look sent shudders throughout
my body. I thought to myself, “Grandma, this is your lucky day!” I could hear
angels singing and fireworks going off. I lay on the bed in absolute bliss in a
sense of anticipation.
The firefighter placed the bed shaker under my mattress.
He activated it and asked in his outdoor voice, “CAN YOU FEEL THE VIBRATIONS?” I shook my head no. He continued
to move the shaker in different positions and persistently inquired, “CAN YOU FEEL IT NOW? HOW ABOUT NOW?”
The answer was still negative.
I closed my eyes and willed myself to feel the
undulations. I encouraged myself by silently chanting, “Go Grandma, Go
Grandma.” My impure thoughts were making me feel so uncatholic and unchaste. However,
look at the bright side, not in a million years did I ever imagine that I would
be laying on a vibrating bed on a Thursday afternoon with two hot firefighters
standing over me. At my age, it doesn’t get any better than that. I can dream, can’t
I?
Unfortunately, I felt nothing and began to wonder if my
body was half-dead. In the end, we placed the shaker under my pillow. The
firefighter must have sensed my frustration and offered up the excuse that the
mattress was probably too thick. They say as you get older everything on your body
hangs to the south. In my case some of my body has left the country! Now all I
have to look forward to is shaken senior syndrome or whiplash from the
vibrations of the shaker under my pillow. So much for Grandma’s Afternoon
Delight.
The bedroom scene played out we moved on to the safety
check. The firefighters complimented me on my orderly home and talked about
some of the hoarding situations they had seen. “Really guys? We just shared an
intimate rendezvous in the bedroom and all you want to talk about is my orderly
house? I mused. The story of my life!
Before they left, I asked them to take a selfie with me. Good naturedly they agreed. We got up close
and personal, and I felt my sensual buzz reviving. I explained that the picture
was for my senior memoir writing class –proof that I was not fabricating this
story.
Inspector McDreamy then asked in his outdoor voice, “ARE ALL THE SENIORS IN YOUR MEMOIR CLASS
LOOPED?”
Quizzically I replied, “Looped? Heavens no! The last class
of each session we bring food, but other than that the only substance we
consume is water.”
He laughed and said, “LOOPED
AS IN A HEARING LOOP WIRE RUN AROUND THE ROOM HOOKED UP TO A MICROPHONE FOR THE
SPEAKER. IT ENABLES PEOPLE WITH HEARING AIDS TO HEAR MORE CLEARLY.”
I let out a big sigh of relief as I replied, “In that case
I can honestly say that no one in my class is looped!’ See memoir mates--I
always have your backs!
As they left, they hugged me and thanked me for a fun
time! I knew I still had game! They said I was one of the nicest women they had
ever met. I asked them to put it in writing as proof, and they did. I was going
to bring it to class, but my dog ate it! Bad dog! This is the true story of Grandma’s almost
afternoon delight! Maybe next week I will call the police department and see
what they can do for Grandma! Until then, back to living the life of an old
lady!
--Valerie S. May 9, 2016
I hope all of you enjoy this, our writing class sure did!
Thank you Valerie!
Emily
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