When I Grow Up

The slew of high-school reunions this summer caused me to ponder my future. I'm not talking about my career or family. Hell no.

I'm talking long term. I'm talking old-ness.

Before I begin, it's important to note: the genesis of this plan took place in the late 1990's. Max and I had our first apartment and life was good. No one made us clean our rooms, we had friends who'd buy us beer, and we got Coffee Time's leftover food every day.

Max and I knew, at some point, the dream would end. There would be an ambiguous, soft middle to the dark, crusty cookie of our past and future.

So we made a plan.

Step One: Find a Suitable Hovel
Max and I plan to be roommates again one day. But let's face it - we're gonna be old. We can't live in another fourth-floor apartment with a dodgy elevator. The second time around we're getting a house. Ideally, the house will sit on a corner lot and have a wrap-around porch.

Max and I will sit on the veranda smoking Camel Straights and drinking bathtub gin. Max will knit* long, twisted creations - not made with a human-wearer in mind. Me, I'm going to learn how to put curses on people and look after the gin.

* Max has already taken up knitting in preparation.

If children should dare approach the house, we'll throw rocks at them. Max will threaten to call their social workers. Once they're gone, I'll draw obscene pictures on the sidewalk in chalk.

Step Two: Have Adventures
Later, we'll go to the grocery store. I'll get there via rascal scooter. I don't plan to use it for mobility so much as mischief.

On the base of the scooter will be a heating element. Protruding from the heating element, mounted to the side of the scooter, will be a fireplace poker. I will use this poker to defend against my "enemies."

Once at the store I plan to steal as much as possible. Forget Letters to my Younger Self. I won't have time for reflecting - when I'm shoplifting! Besides, how else will a couple of old drunk ladies get food and gin makin's.

Step Three: Don't Get Caught
If, by chance, someone catches me, my first move is to play the sympathy card. I'm a forgetful old lady. I didn't realize what I was doing.

If they don't buy it, my next move is to make for the lightbulb aisle. Once there, I'll start unpacking bulbs and smashing them. The sound alone should clear a path to the exit.

If all else fails, and I end up in Safeway jail (or whatever), Max will tell them that I'm [insert Asian celebrity name here], former star of film and television. You'd have to be a real jerk to call the cops on Connie Chung, just trying to quietly live out her twilight years.