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Lee Pitts: Who Is This Guy?

We don’t have many mirrors in our home, for obvious reasons, but recently I saw a reflection of this stranger in the window of the hardware store. The grotesque figure had more hair growing out his nose than he did out the top of his head and he did a combover with the hair growing out his ears. He had this shriveled, gnarled face with slits for eyes, sunken cheeks, his teeth were worn down to the gums and his Adam’s apple looked like he’d swallowed a softball. His image scared the bejeezus out of me and he’s following me everywhere I go!

Who is this guy?

He even follows me when I go on my daily walk. I used to be able to race up and down the hills where I live but lately I notice I have to stop often to catch my breath and let my burning thighs cool down. I think it’s because there’s less oxygen in the air. Yeah, that’s what it is.



I wish those who are responsible for making the lettering on road signs so tiny would stop it. It’s very dangerous and they need to go back to their original size. And why can’t people stop whispering when they speak to me. I don’t know why they’re doing it. Are they worried about being overheard by the thought-police who seem to be multiplying like rats lately?

I’ve also noticed that food manufacturers are putting the lids on the jars of pickles that my wife likes on a lot tighter than they used to. I used to be able to impress her by opening every jar with an easy twist of the wrist but now that I have to use a pipe wrench she’s beginning to question my manliness.



Someone messed up at the post office because I started getting the AARP Magazine and coupons for Depends®. And my phone rings off the hook from mortuaries and independent living facilities, whatever that is. I’m married and haven’t lived independently for 49 years. Why start now?

I wish clerks and servers in restaurants would make up their mind. When I went into the drugstore to buy a box of cheap wine for my wife on Valentine’s Day the clerk asked to see my ID, while a restaurant tried desperately to give me a senior citizen’s discount. I swore to them that I’m not eligible because I’m only… holy cow, I’m 70 years old! When did that happen?

Okay, I admit I’m wearing loafers now because I dislocated my back trying to bend over to tie my work boots. And I walk with a cane or walker these days but who doesn’t? I’ll also reluctantly admit I watched a replay of last year’s Super Bowl game and not only was I not aware I’d already seen it, I also couldn’t remember who won. I used to be able to sleep all night without getting up but for some reason now I have to get up several times to drain my radiator. Personally I think it’s because of all the preservatives they’re putting in our food. And since when did a gallon of water start weighing eight pounds? The gallon jugs seems to be much heavier now, probably because of all the minerals and impurities in the water. That’s my theory anyway.

My 50th high school reunion got canceled due to Covid but it’s just as well. They had plans for a dance, a golf tournament and barbecue but I don’t know how to dance, broke four windows and wrenched my back the last time I played golf and my doctor put me on a new diet: I can’t eat anything that tastes good. Plus, I probably would have had to wear shorts to play golf but the local community beautification committee asked me to NEVER wear them in public again because my white legs, knobby knees and protruding vericose veins were scaring the tourists away.

In the meantime, I’m haunted by that guy I saw in the reflection. I wish he’d quit following me because he’s starting to really creep me out. Maybe it’s some sort of atmospheric thing where I’m seeing apparitions or something. Anyway, I’m blaming global warming. Might as well, it seems to be responsible for everything else these days.

Lee Pitts

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