June 4, 2012
My poor, naive little mind was broken one year when I was chosen to be one of the representative students at the President's mansion.
I am not exactly sure why. This was back in those days where there was no such thing as a digital camera and if someone told me that one day I would communicate with people on the internet, I would have taken away their keys and vodka. I have one picture of my drunk in college and I will post it one day. I am just too lazy to switch computers. I've posted it before.
So we put on our Sunday best and headed to the President's mansion. I even left my combat boots at home and wore non-platform heels. I was thinking is a free meal really worth it? Old people are so boring and some of them are gross. Then to top it off, these were snobby rich people that donated megabucks to the college. That meant they were even more boring.
So my friend and I thought we had found a spot away from everyone else, we saw this cute little old lady sitting by herself. We smile and say, "hello" because that is what they told us to do.
She smiled and said a bunch of stuff that I no longer remember. It was 18 years ago. We smiled and pretended like we were interested, at least I was pretending to be interested. I really just wanted to go back to my dorm. Somewhere mid conversation, something must of possessed the sweet little old lady because she started talking about how pretty and young we were. (Well, damn...we had just ran away from the old men)
We politely said thank you because I am pretty sure the president would have been angry if we made people that donated money mad. I was looking at my knees trying to think of a way to escape the old lady and her weird flattery and I think my friend was, too. I mean at a frat party you can say, "I'm going to go stand over there now."
Fortunately, a man, that was apparently her son, saw our expressions and ran over yelling at her. "What did you say, mom?" The lady dropped her eyes. "I told you to not talk to anyone." Then we dropped our eyes. After getting no response from her, he then asked what she said to us. We shook our heads. How do you tell someone that your mom made a joke about blowjobs? He asked if she said anything racist. My friend was Cuban, and I suppose how he could make the assumption that his mother may have said something racist. I finally got tired of him asking if she said something racist despite the fact we insisted that she didn't and I told him, "that his mother made a joke that would have just been kind of funny if she wasn't such a cute old lady. She looks like someone that would bake you pies not make dirty jokes." That calmed him down a bit, but then he wanted to know the joke she told (and if it was racist). I think maybe he was the one that was racist and not her. So I told him that he really didn't want to know what his mother said because he was a guy and I would be horrified if my mother said it and I'm a girl. For some reason that got rid of him. It didn't even sound logical when it came out of my mouth, but he bought it.
After he left., The little old lady apologize mostly for her son. She explained that she had Alzheimer's and sometimes she said things that she didn't mean or that she could even control. She thanked us for not telling her son what she said after saying that he didn't have to be so mean to her and he could have left her at home if he was so embarrassed of her because it was humiliating enough without him making a big deal over it.
She then went on to tell us stories of her misadventures as a young woman during the 1920s and 1930s. The stories involved lots of shotguns, cars that always broke down, moonshine, tons of sex, and then falling in love. It was an eye opener. Not only did I think that old people never had sex ever, they didn't even have sex when they were young because before the hippies, people wore chastity belts and didn't have sex until they were married. Then when they were married, they only had sex to procreate and I am only exaggerating a little bit. She blew all of that thinking way out of my head. She talked about fighting for women's rights and how proud she was to see us going to college and not just a finishing school or woman's college like women did in her day. She was bewildered by the way we talked about our escapades. She heard all the other young people talking about the party. I would love to have seen her reaction to Facebook where they post pictures. It is too bad we didn't have Smartphones back then because I would have recorded her story because she was that awesome of a lady.
I imagined that if she didn't have Alzheimer's and she wasn't under the wings of her apparently ultra controlling son, she would have been something like this:
We ended up talking to her until the end of the party and most people had begun to leave. Her son seemed shocked to see us still talking to his mom. I hugged his mom, and then put his hand in hers and told him that he should talk to his mom, I mean really talk to her, because she was one awesome lady. If he chose not to, then it was honestly his loss.