parties at the old people’s home
Wine and cheese in the communal room,
Lots of wine, in fact
And music blaring kind of loud,
Curtains twitch as the new man arrives,
Beryl says he’s only sixty-eight,
A silver fox, all the women want
And the old men on zimmers grumble,
I bet he can’t party like us.
My dad is currently moving into his own little flat that is in a retirement community. I was a little bit against the move originally, but the more he talks about the new place, the more I find myself wanting to move there too.
I think I’m letting my imagination run wild because I’m creating this cast of characters made up of eccentric old people, thinking about all the crazy things that could be going on behind their closed doors.
Dad has told me that every time he arrives at his flat, some old lady is out on the landing to talk to him and they already know his name even though he has never met them. I find it hilarious because he is probably the hot young man in the building given that he is still in his sixties.
And then there’s the parties. The lease states that they are not allowed, but the residents seem to tell a different story. These guys seem to love a drink and I think the socials can become a bit raucous.
My point is that I think we should all be aiming for a retirement flat where we can live out our days having resident’s meetings and cheese and wine socials.