So many tangles in life are ultimately hopeless...
So many tangles in life are ultimately hopeless that we have no appropriate sword other than laughter.---Gordon W. Allport
In attempts to avoid the inevitable doom that is my english homework, I will write a short story instead.
This story is in honor of a brilliant couple, Maxi and a man to whom I can not put a name. I dedicate it to you both.
I work at a retirement home called Parkwood Estates and I serve food to the residents that live there. After serving the same people day in day out you get to know the different querks of the people that dwell within; the squatty little lady who always wants two ice teas with lots of ice and lemon, the helplessly shaky man that croaks for his skim milk with ice, the table of adorable white haired women that never want more than saltine crackers to drink, and who could forget Ullyla, at every meal she thinks it's hilarious to request wine, which of course we don't serve. She sadly has dimentia and never remembers that she says the same joke at every meal and can't understand why the joke seems to be getting old when to her it is a brand new dimention of wit. I could go on forever on the facets of the dining room, but one couple in particular always comes to mind. A petite softspoken woman with gray hair wheels around her husband everywhere they go because he lost his leg in the war. Her name is Maxi, probably short for Maxene, and I know this because her adoring husband utters nothing more often than her name. Because of this, I've never had the privilidge of learning his. "Maxi and I would both like half glasses of peach juice; Maxi would like a whole sandwich and I'll take half" he says loudly, even though I'm not the one hard of hearing. Sometimes Maxi doesn't really want peach juice, she'd rather have lemonade, so she politely pulls me aside and whispers her request so to not hurt her husbands pride. These two never sit at the same table twice, they're always making friends and always on the move and they are nothing short of adorable. At the end of the evening meal they say their goodbyes and go off on their way, Maxi pushing the husband that I can't put a name to. Once everyone leaves the dining room, it's time to clean up and go home. Within my first month of working at Parkwood, the dining room was empty and the other servers and I were cleaning up just like normal when it happened. I walked by the restroom when I heard it and I walked away trying to erase the sounds that kept coming to my mind. Not too long afterward, Maxi and the husband, whose name I've never heard, emerged; husband with a goofy smile on his face and Maxi cheerfull as always. He looks at us servers, waves and says "Have a goodnight!" and they head toward their apartment. Yes, Maxi and the husband were having sex in that bathroom and currently have sex in that bathroom and will probably continue to have sex in that bathroom on a fairly regular basis until the day they die. Yes, two 91 yearolds having sex in a public restroom. Disturbing? Yes, yes it is, yet somehow it's one of the more beautiful stories you'll have ever heard. They recently celebrated their 63rd wedding anniversary; sixty-three years of sex in public restrooms. Here I am 16 and I can't even fathom marriage let alone marriage for sixty-three years let alone sex after those sixty three years. After supper, if you hear the husband without a spoken name say "Maxi, would you like to go on a rendevous?" you know that they're going to go have sex. 'Rendevous' is the codeword for 'Let's go have sex in the bathroom'. Distingusting as it may be, I can't help but wonder will I be having sex in public restrooms when I'm 91? Will I still be having sex after 63 years of marriage? Will I even get married? Thoughts like these would never have entered my mind had Maxi and that husband without a name not engraved such a image in my mind. Maxi and her husband are a somewhat disturbing yet inspiring image of what can happen to a marriage in a country where the current divorce rate is around 40%. Although it still disgusts me, I can't believe how happy Maxi and the husband are with life and with each other. It's possible, I've never even thought about it before but it is. I love watching them be in love, watching the nameless husband order for his wife, watching Maxi let him order for her. After all those years, even in a retirement home they can still be in love. And I'll never forget them or their rendevous for it.
In attempts to avoid the inevitable doom that is my english homework, I will write a short story instead.
This story is in honor of a brilliant couple, Maxi and a man to whom I can not put a name. I dedicate it to you both.
I work at a retirement home called Parkwood Estates and I serve food to the residents that live there. After serving the same people day in day out you get to know the different querks of the people that dwell within; the squatty little lady who always wants two ice teas with lots of ice and lemon, the helplessly shaky man that croaks for his skim milk with ice, the table of adorable white haired women that never want more than saltine crackers to drink, and who could forget Ullyla, at every meal she thinks it's hilarious to request wine, which of course we don't serve. She sadly has dimentia and never remembers that she says the same joke at every meal and can't understand why the joke seems to be getting old when to her it is a brand new dimention of wit. I could go on forever on the facets of the dining room, but one couple in particular always comes to mind. A petite softspoken woman with gray hair wheels around her husband everywhere they go because he lost his leg in the war. Her name is Maxi, probably short for Maxene, and I know this because her adoring husband utters nothing more often than her name. Because of this, I've never had the privilidge of learning his. "Maxi and I would both like half glasses of peach juice; Maxi would like a whole sandwich and I'll take half" he says loudly, even though I'm not the one hard of hearing. Sometimes Maxi doesn't really want peach juice, she'd rather have lemonade, so she politely pulls me aside and whispers her request so to not hurt her husbands pride. These two never sit at the same table twice, they're always making friends and always on the move and they are nothing short of adorable. At the end of the evening meal they say their goodbyes and go off on their way, Maxi pushing the husband that I can't put a name to. Once everyone leaves the dining room, it's time to clean up and go home. Within my first month of working at Parkwood, the dining room was empty and the other servers and I were cleaning up just like normal when it happened. I walked by the restroom when I heard it and I walked away trying to erase the sounds that kept coming to my mind. Not too long afterward, Maxi and the husband, whose name I've never heard, emerged; husband with a goofy smile on his face and Maxi cheerfull as always. He looks at us servers, waves and says "Have a goodnight!" and they head toward their apartment. Yes, Maxi and the husband were having sex in that bathroom and currently have sex in that bathroom and will probably continue to have sex in that bathroom on a fairly regular basis until the day they die. Yes, two 91 yearolds having sex in a public restroom. Disturbing? Yes, yes it is, yet somehow it's one of the more beautiful stories you'll have ever heard. They recently celebrated their 63rd wedding anniversary; sixty-three years of sex in public restrooms. Here I am 16 and I can't even fathom marriage let alone marriage for sixty-three years let alone sex after those sixty three years. After supper, if you hear the husband without a spoken name say "Maxi, would you like to go on a rendevous?" you know that they're going to go have sex. 'Rendevous' is the codeword for 'Let's go have sex in the bathroom'. Distingusting as it may be, I can't help but wonder will I be having sex in public restrooms when I'm 91? Will I still be having sex after 63 years of marriage? Will I even get married? Thoughts like these would never have entered my mind had Maxi and that husband without a name not engraved such a image in my mind. Maxi and her husband are a somewhat disturbing yet inspiring image of what can happen to a marriage in a country where the current divorce rate is around 40%. Although it still disgusts me, I can't believe how happy Maxi and the husband are with life and with each other. It's possible, I've never even thought about it before but it is. I love watching them be in love, watching the nameless husband order for his wife, watching Maxi let him order for her. After all those years, even in a retirement home they can still be in love. And I'll never forget them or their rendevous for it.