This past weekend, I found myself in the company of an old drunk woman known to her friends as "the Dutchess of Green Pond." Well, actually, if you want to be a little more familiar, you may call her Dutch. And, if you want to get even MORE familiar, you may kiss her old grimy hand that she sticks in your face.
No. NO NO NO NO NO!!!!
And yet, in that moment, I kissed her fucking hand. Because what else could I have done? Politely excused myself on account of a little thing going around called Swine Flu? YES. THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I COULD HAVE DONE. But I'm a fucking idiot, who kisses drunk old lady's gross wrinkly hands. Tell your grandma to watch out, this GHILK-Hunter is on the prowl.
It's not like I didn't have a second opportunity to share with her my true feelings. After I degraded myself by putting my lips on her wino-paws (the same lips that I'll use on my wedding day!), she says:
"It's the craziest thing... you stick a hand in front of a man, aged 18 to 100, and he'll kiss your hand!"
Fuck you, AARP (that is, Aging Alcoholic Raping Pmydignity). At least you are staying away from innocent minors. They don't need you haunting their dreams. Oh, wait, now that I think about it, you DO look really familiar.
So to all you old ladies out there thinking the world is full of gentlemen: put your hands back in your fucking purses next to your tiny bottles of brandy. I'm not saying the world isn't full of gentlemen - oh we're out there. But we're kissing your hands to save you the embarrassment of telling you how we actually feel.
Next time, I can only hope it goes a little like this:
"Josh, please meet the Dutchess of Green Pond"
"Oh, you may call me Dutch" [shoves her old mitt in my face]
"Dutchess of Green Pond? Are you sure you're not Dutchess of the Black Lagoon?"