Marie Roy and Elisa Toner — Forgetful Gluttony

Marty-O and Elisa Toner

Mr.Breaton

EWC-4U

May 6th, 2013

Forgetful Gluttony

The April air was sharp, stinging my nostrils as I huffed my way up the hill. God, it was hot out. The sun was beating down on my neck, and suddenly I felt as naked as a newborn bird. Maybe I should buy a toupee or something so that my scalp didn't burn. While my skin was baking, I squinted around and looked for Lou. That bastard had to be around somewhere, but knowing him it would take an extra half hour to lug his fat ass up the hill. I glanced at my watch:  one o’clock. I sighed and plopped my aching bones down on the nearest bench. The wood was faded and fragile, and here and there were little splatters of bird shit. One of those emu kids with the black fingernails might have thought that was pretty cool, but I just felt annoyed at the park maintenance. Back in my day that would never have happened. Since Lou was nowhere to be seen, I pulled out a box of those Rosebuds. My wife would have told me to watch my blood sugar, but that woman could nag a shark out of water.

“Reginald!” I sent some of my Rosebuds flying, my hand as shaky as Michael J. Fox’s.

“Dammit, Lou! Don't go scaring me like that!”

“What, can't handle a little excitement?”

“Of course I can,” I lifted a Rosebud off the ground and popped it into my mouth. “It's just you I can't handle”

The bench sagged a little as Lou lowered himself next to me. “Hey, Reg,” He shoved a pudgy elbow into my arm, “Lay off the sweets.”

“Who are you, my wife?” I slid away from him. “Why don't you go sit with that little emu kid over there smoking the cigarette?”

“What? I don't see an emu!”

“No, not the bird, you know those kids with the greasy hair and the black nails.” Lou's forehead became a sea of wrinkles as he frowned.

“Huh?” He muttered something that I couldn't hear. What a jackass.

“What did you say?”

“Never mind.”

“Took you long enough to get here,” I pointed at the wet marks under his armpits, “I'd hate to be the cotton under those pits.”

“Well you couldn't go a damn minute without the chocolate.” I pulled the package close to my chest. I pointed a gnarled finger at Lou when a Frisbee whizzed by our faces. Luckily it missed us; my neck was so stiff I could barely move it.

“Some people's kids,” Lou said. “No damn respect.”

“They're all just attention starved” I said, popping a Rosebud into my mouth. “Their parents just give 'em a bunch of candy and stick them in front of the TV. I bet they all have rotten teeth.”

Lou picked at his dentures before jabbing his stubby finger at my cheek.

---

“What's that?” I leaned over and swiped my finger over the brown smear on his wrinkly skin. I placed my finger delicately in my mouth and let my tongue swirl around it.

“What?”

“Goddamn Reginald, it’s bad enough that you’re eating sweets but this tastes like crap. Ninety-nine percent cocoa, you can’t even call this chocolate. Plus you’re picking up my bad habits and saving the rest for later I see. Look, there’s chocolate all over your shirt!”

“Speaking of those emus,” Regie interrupted, “look at the geese in the pond over there!” Regie pointed in the complete wrong direction, obviously embarrassed of his mishap.

“Hey oh! You know I hate those demons with feathers. “Da hell is your problem man?”  I could feel the sweat creeping up from behind my neck, forming tiny wet blobs.

“What are you talking about Lou? You never tell me anything besides what meal you’re having at the Greasy Gravy.”

“You’re just as bitter as that chocolate you were chowing down earlier. And for your information dillweed, I only eat quality food from the Chill Grill.”

“Watch your language big boy”

“The only benefit of meeting you here at the park was the public access to the hotdog stand” I looked in the distance and steadily raised myself as my knees buckled.

In all honestly, I didn’t care for what that old lard had to say in return. My eyes were set on that shimmering silver cart that I’ve been eyeing all day.  The aroma of hot dogs was taunting me to come closer; I was seduced. Imagining what condiments I’d put on my food made my chin quiver with excitement. All was forgotten, I entered another dimension. I started thinking of how the delicious zest of ketchup would contrast with the blunt mustard on top of the roasting wiener. Oh what about relish you may ask? Nobody likes that green shit anyways.

“Are you going to move your ass or what? You’ve been standing in front of me nearly drooling on yourself for the past fifteen minutes. ” A man’s voice came out of nowhere, interrupting my thoughts.

“Excuse me sir, but you should be more polite with your elders.” I snapped back at him, walking towards the hotdog stand.

Who did this guy think he is? A scrawny old man sitting on the bench by himself holding an empty chocolate box, how pathetic. I wonder how he was able to stay so thin seeing as he left freaking chocolate pieces all over him. I thought those were brown polka dots on his shirt for God’s Sake. I hobbled away and headed over to a charming young man standing patiently at his work post.

“Top of the day to you sir, I’d love to buy a hotdog please. Preferably the juiciest one”

“Just one, it looks like you could use a few big fella,” The vendor flashed a friendly smile.

“I’ll stick with one for now, I’m supposed to be meeting a friend here in a little while anyways. Would you happen to have the time?”

“It’s quarter past one, have a great day!”

Shit. I was supposed to meet Reginald here at twelve thirty. I was positive I came early as well. I squinted my eyes due to the beaming sun and looked around the park. There was only the old man with the chocolate box sitting down in the distance. There’s no way that could be Regie, he had diabetes and knew better than to eat sweets.

Reginald had always been my best friend and it was nice to have someone to grow old with. Sadly I haven’t seen him in years. As I scarf down my hotdog without chewing I reached into my back pocket for my medication bottle. I knew I had to get home seeing as my medication wasn’t  in my pocket; I probably left them on the counter somewhere. These drugs are said to help delay or prevent Alzheimer symptoms from becoming worse for a limited time and may help control some behavioral symptoms. All I know is that I really hope to see Reginald soon.

---

I blinked a few times to get the sun of out my eyes. I could just barely make out the bulbous Lou stuffing a hot dog down his throat. And to think I was the one with the diabetes. Jesus. I figured that after Lou screamed at me, he had probably forgotten to take his meds. A few years ago, we used to laugh at all those 80 year old losers who had Alzheimer's, but this was different. I noticed a little girl staring at me, her eyes were round, almost like a fish.

“What are you looking at, guppy?”

She stared.

“Haven't you even seen a man with chocolate on his shirt?”

She blinked.

“Kids these days, so damn stupid their piss isn't even yellow.”

Then she started crying. Personally, I wasn't in any mood for the water works, and I didn't want to stick around in case some parent tried to call the manners police on me. I had about a minute to get out of there, and it would probably take me at least triple that to get my ass off the bench.

“Hey, Lou!” I hollered. “Lou!” He waddled around and faced me, a little bit of ketchup clinging to his lip.

“You've got a little schmutz right there.”

“Oh.”

“Are those wieners any good?”

“What?”

“Those over there.” Lou's eyes followed my finger, but my joints were a little crooked so he ended up looking at a group of boys playing baseball.

“Baseball?”

“No, not the boys you idiot! The dogs! I'm talking about the hotdogs!”

“Yeah the meat's pretty good.”

“Oh yeah? Are they frankfurters? I love those big beefy—”

“There's something on your shirt.” Lou could be a real dunce. He was always cutting me off. Like a man with ketchup on his upper lip had anything important to say.

“I know, they're called stripes.”

Lou shook his head. “Those dots.” He jabbed at my ribs.

“Ho! I'm not some damn doohickey that you can poke at! God, you're like one of those teenagers.” In my rage, I had dropped my box of Rosettes. I lifted the package off the ground and noticed it was eerily light. I peered inside, and saw nothing but white walls of cardboard.

“God dammit.” Shit I was out. Damn. I patted my pockets, maybe I had some spare change on me.

“Hey Lou, I've got to get going home soon.”

Lou stared at me through his milky eyes. He needed his cataracts redone.

“It was real nice meeting with you, but maybe next time you'll sweat less.”

“Maybe next time your shirt will be clean.”

“Oh, so you're a comedian now?” I looked down at my empty box again, it had more air in it than my pockets.

“Listen, Lou, I took the bus here,” I lied, “do you think I could borrow five bucks?”

“Well, I don't really know you.” I sighed. Of course you don't know me you idiot! You have Alzheimer’s. The funny thing about seniors with Alzheimer's is that they're the only people who have no idea there's something wrong with them.

“Sure you do, I bought you your hot dog.”

“Really?” he smiled, his chubby cheeks forcing his eyes into slits. “That's very—”

“So you'll give me some money?”

“Sure,” he put his fist in his pocket and came out with a crumpled bill.

“I'll pay you back one day.”

“Sure, old timer.” I had to laugh at that, even if he was senile, Lou was still himself.

“Thanks a million, fatty.” My hand closed around the bill and I walked so fast I thought my heart would burst. I was making off like a bandit! Five whole dollars. I could buy two boxes of Rosebuds. Maybe I was an 81 year old jerk for taking advantage of the elderly, but when you're old, you're bored, and a teenager would never give me money. At least Lou would forget about what an bastard I could be.