When I started to write this blog I realized I would be using the term “old people” more than I should. So I decided to come up with a new name to refer to my elders.
So the new name for old people is “Jenkins” when I refer to men, “Mabel” when it’s a woman and “Jefferson’s” when I’m referring to a group of old people.
OK, let’s get started…
First of all, what’s the deal with all the Mable’s being allowed to drive, even though they can’t see over the steering wheel?
I’ve seen this countless times…earlier in my life (last week) I believed that all Mable’s have the ability to see through certain objects. Much to my dismay; I was told by a reliable source (Discovery channel) that they could NOT in fact see through objects, rather they mostly just guess where they’re driving.
When it comes to driving, I think that all Jefferson’s should have a special demerit system that only applies to them…a three-strike system, much like black people. Each time a cop, or even a citizen, spots a Jenkins or a Mabel performing a very stupid maneuver in their vehicle they issue that Jefferson a strike. This can range anywhere from parking in the middle of 2 spaces, going 20 km on the highway or even having their blinking on for an extended amount of time.
Go ahead and tell me that won’t work!
Well, I don’t care what you say.
Has anyone ever got stuck behind an Mabel in line to a bank? Jenkins are much better at dealing with line-ups at Banks, grocery stores etc. but there’s something about a Mabel being at the front of a line that just screams “YOU’RE GOING TO TAKE FOR-FUCKING-EVER, AREN’T YOU?!?”
This particular Mabel caused my casual trip to the bank into a 20 minute marathon of dirty looks. This Mabel had one of those old debit books, you know the booklets that keep track out your transactions. Does anyone even use those things anymore? No? Everyone has a computer? Thought so…
So this Mabel was going through EVER FUCKING SINGLE TRANSACTION and having the bank teller look up where each one had taken place. Geez Louise!
And you know I have no fucking patience, but the guy in front of me was even more fuming than me. One, because he had been waiting there longer than me but more importantly because when he actually got to the counter the girl couldn’t help him. He needed a 20 changed into dimes but apparently they were out of dimes.
He was red in the face, screaming random shit as he was leaving the bank….
“HOW CAN A BANK BE OUTTA DIMES, I mean I never thought it could…(fades in the fog)”
There was no fog, but nice touch right?
Ok this seems like a good point to say that I love my Jefferson’s, I mean my grandparents…they’re all pretty badass. My grandmas doesn’t drive often and my grandpa is quite capable of driving a vehicle so I know there’s no one out there getting stuck behind them in traffic or lines etc.
But even after all that, I feel we still need the Jefferson’s of the world. After all, what would this world be without them?
Well, at least without them there wouldn’t be any Viagra.
So there’s that.