Killer Bunnies, Warehoused Veterans, Crazy Rich Asians

[mallorys_camera]

Killer rabbits in medieval manuscripts are one of my favorite things in the world.

Where did they come from? What do they mean?

###

My last client yesterday was Winnie Penncel (not her real name), an 80-something woman, mostly in possession of her mental faculties but only mostly. You could tell she was concerned about it and hoping nobody noticed.

Her ways of asserting control manifested through (a) endless questions, mostly irrelevant and (b) blandishment.

Unfortunately, yesterday, I was in a mood. Who knows why? Thus, was somewhat curt by the time she got to her fourth or fifth question.

She’d been an obstetrical technician at a hospital in the town just north of mine. I have no idea what an “obstetrical technician” does. She’d worked for a few months in 2018, so had wages to report in addition to Social Security and a pathetically small pension.

Her teeth were really bad.

I notice teeth because until I saved up all my money to get my own teeth done, my teeth were very bad. Now that accents are irrelevant, teeth are like the last great class indicator.

She was a veteran. “Still in the Marine Corps Reserves!” she told me proudly.

Never married. No children. No one to take up the slack.

And she was forgetting things—asking the question she’d just asked five minutes earlier. Asking the question again ten minutes later. And no, it wasn’t nerves.

And I was just seized with the horror of her life. She was getting past the point where pluck, determination and resourcefulness was gonna do for her. And she had no money.

I pictured her five years from now, warehoused in some veterans long-term care facility with no one to visit her, the VA basically tapping its foot and waiting for her to die, so they could give her space to someone else. And I got very, very depressed.

She had a story! And no one was ever gonna listen to it.

She was plucky! And no one was ever gonna look her in the eye and say, “Good for you!” Meaning it.

Certainly, I wasn’t going to.

I was in a mood.

###

Went home and went walking. The five-mile loop. I still haven’t worked my way back up to what I call “running” yet—I’m not sure that anyone else would call it running. Maybe next week.

I’m listening to Crazy Rich Asians while I walk.

Well. Not really Crazy Rich Asians.

I listened to the first chapter of Crazy Rich Asians and realized that while there were things I liked about it—basically the descriptions of the furniture, the food, the couture dresses—the characters, plot and syntax were all pretty awful. So I hacked the audiobook file so that it would play randomly and out of context. That way I could hear the descriptions of the furniture, the food, the couture dresses without having to consider the deeply irritating story.

Hey, it works for me!

And is such a good metaphor for the way I deal with life in general.

Comments

[robby]

Winnie could not be in the Marine Corps Reserve. There are age and physical requirements, and reservists serve 8 year enlistments.

[mallorys_camera]

When you meet her, you can tell her. :-)

[robby]

She would need to be "combat ready". Most men leave the reserves in their 40's.

[mallorys_camera]

Dude! I just write what I'm told, and that's what she told me. :-)

[smokingboot]

I have never found reason behind the rabbits but I love them!

I hope you're still up for meeting when we get there in May,* but must warn you, while mine are not the worst examples of British teeth, British teeth they definitely are, complete with 1970s fillings that look awful but last forever. Weirdly, in Blighty among all the bizarre things that are class indicators, teeth do not list that highly, possibly due to generations addicted to sweets and nicotine.

[mallorys_camera]

I am mortified and deeply, deeply sorry if anything I've written here has given you the slightest pang of discomfort. Please forgive me. I'm a textbook Aries in many ways, just completely rude and tactless. Please, please, please forgive my rudeness.

Winnie Penncel was missing teeth. I was actually rather furious about this: She's a veteran, and you would think dentistry would be covered under veterans' health benefits, but apparently they aren't, which is infuriating. Not because of the aesthetics but because it limits her diet to certain types of foods. She would have had a hard time with fresh vegetables, for example. But fresh vegetables are the best source of vitamins and minerals without which she stands a good chance of becoming malnourished.

I am very much looking forward to meeting you in May. And even if my hideous rudeness has quashed your interest in meeting me, do take me up on the free-free-free tickets for the Metropolitan Museum of Art: It will save you $50 and possibly more.

[smokingboot]

I promise you with all my heart and all my sincerity, you have not been rude in any way, and you haven't caused me one second's discomfort. If anything I feel I have accidently caused you unwarranted distress! No, when I was at Edinburgh, I had some great friends from the US and this issue about teeth was one canvassed between us regularly, sometimes seriously, sometimes not, but never with anything in mind other than genuine discussion and friendship. I am delighted and excited to hear that you are still up for meeting!

Please, don't worry at all; this isn't me being terribly British and polite I assure you. You haven't been tactless, everything is excellent, and I can't wait for May :-)

[zyzyly]

One of my first jobs was an OB tech. I set up the delivery room, assisted, and then took the baby after it was born, and did all the baby stuff like footprints and shots. I loved that job.

[mallorys_camera]

Ah! Okay. Thanks for the explanation. :-)

[asakiyume]

omg, that woman's story is triggering *my* anxiety... to the degree that I totally can't enjoy the other stuff--and the rabbits were fun.

Aaaaaahhhhaaaaaaaaa....

Please let something good happen to her. A neighbor. Something.

[mallorys_camera]

I know, right?

I couldn't deal with the awfulness of her plight even to the extent of feeling compassion.