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When I Retire
As I creep ever closer to retirement, I'm drawn to anything related to it. Such as: after retiring from my career as a professional Clothing Restorer, I'm to get up at 6:30, meet other ol- retired people at the Mall, do an hour walk in an empty Mall (read: no babes to look at). The only reason I'd want to get up at 6:30 when I don't have to is to yell at the dumb dog to hold himself until I damn good and ready to let him out. Walk the Mall? Who the Hell wants to do that? The breakfast part is okay if they make it lunch.
Then I'm supposed to either play golf (more walking!) or tennis (running?!). Who the Hell thought this shit up? The Marquis de Sade? I can just see me trying to hit a little white ball I can't see with a club I can't swing. I can't even imagine running after a fuzzy ball and whacking it with a racket. I might whack the fuzzball who suggested it to me, though. Even worse, I’m supposed to play bridge. Why? What’s wrong with blackjack and poker? I’m going to sit there having to have a partner who’s actually playing the game and, get this, think! Think? I don’t want to have to think. I have thought everything I needed to get to this point. No, no thinking. Yet, even worse than that, I’m to do volunteer work!! I had a hard time putting volunteer and work in a sentence. I spend 47 years bitching that I don’t make as much money as I should and I’m going to work for free? Not even with a gun to my head. Some old bat’s going to bitch at me for being late when I’m not being paid? I just know I’d end up doing a year for whacking her, probably with her tennis racket or golf club, if I had the energy, which I won’t. The whole idea is to do nothing and think nothing from retirement day to the day they take me away to the home. I'll be senile and won't care. Won't know. Then I can walk, play golf and tennis. I thought retirement meant lounging around until you die. |