Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Why I Need Therapy: Reason 45,296

my granny is 76 years old. she is an energetic, sharp, vibrant 76 years old. but she's not what the media would have you believe. she's not one of those comical grannies like you see in the movies who talks about snoop dog and and internet dating, but she's pretty cool nonetheless.

i enjoy spending time with her and just hanging out. she taught me everything i know about gambling and quite frankly, she has a more happening social life than i do. it's not unusual to talk to her late sunday morning and find out she slept in because she went to not one, but two parties the night before. yes, she's quite the social butterfly.

then there are days where i wish i was adopted.

recently she got one of those fancy Craftmatic type beds that has the massager, heat and adjustable settings. actually, she got it from her mother who turned 100 years old last week. her mother is in a rest home now, so granny got this almost new bed from her. anyway, i was at her house and i was trying out all the bells and whistles on the bed. i was laying there futzing with the remote control and i remarked that this bed was just a fancier version of those vibrating beds that you find in cheap motels. that's when she decided to tell me a story and i decided to go to the happy place in my head.

she said, "one time, your grandfather and i were at a motel that had one of those vibrating beds-"

"granny, please stop talking."

"-and i put two quarters in the machine-"

"granny, please, i am begging you. stop."

"-and nothing happened-"

"granny, did you hear that noise? that was the sound of my mind snapping."

"-but then, at one in the morning, all of a sudden, it kicked in-"

"someone. anyone. please kill me now. my granny is telling me about her and my grandfather and a vibrating bed in a motel. i want to die."

"-and it just scared us half to death."

"help me."