I hate old people

I’m sitting alone at my local coffee spot right now. I ordered a drink and then I found a chair in a corner all alone to sit in..to breathe and to reflect.

I looked out the window and within the rain I saw an elderly couple. They limped to the door of the coffee house hand in hand.

Now, I know what you are probably thinking, “Oh how cute. I love little old couples holding hands. It’s amazing they made it through all those years together.”

And to that I say, FUCK YOU.

Because I know the truth: old people are the devil.

The couple enter the almost empty shop. They smell like wet dog. They look around at their seating options. Guess where they sit down. Thats right! Like a family fucking reunion they sit at my table. Not one of the seven empty ones. Old people think they have the right to do whatever they please.

I considered moving. Instead I decided to stay and give them nasty looks as they slurp their coffee and talk about the weather while fighting over the pieces of coffee cake that had to be cut up for them. They talk about more things that are meaningless and pointless. Then they fall asleep. Two minutes later they awake with a jump and repeat the same conversation.

I’m standing my ground.

You see today is a big day for me. The fate of my job may very well rest on the out come of the meeting I’m about to have when I gain the courage (or consume the right amount of  caffeine) to head to work.

I have two elderies of my own at home that I came to this very coffee shop this morning to escape. They were chasing me around nagging me over tiny, inane things. Such as the way I close the dryer while doing laundry and which of my sons projects should be hung up on his wall. I was chased out the door for not caring and now the devil has found two  replacements to torture me as I search for sanctuary.

Seniors are disgusting. Saggy skin on bones. Their breath smells like rotting corpses. I hate when they talk and spit old pieces of food at you. I hate how everything in their geriatric world revolves around meal times. I hate when they misplace their dentures.

I hate they way they yell to each other repeating everything ten times. I hate the way they dress in out dated styles and wear hair styles even more out dated.

I hate their sense of entitlement. I hate when they cut you in line at the grocery store. I hate when they act like children then complain when you treat them as such.

Oh my god they are talking about the rain again!

I hate when they try to kiss you or make you “try this” and drink after them. Ewwwww!

I hate them on the road driving ten miles an hour before cutting you off when you try to pass them. I hate when they attempt to work cellphones or any technology.

I hate how they make you feel sorry for them.

I hate more than anything when they make you trim their, rotting, fungus infested toe nails.

I hate that the most.

I however, do not hate Hugh Hefner. I would screw that bag of bones any day and in any hole to get into playboy. Hugh Hefner does not count.


There is nothing positive about the elderly. I think we should be able to “put them down” like pets.

Mostly, I hope when my time comes either I look like Joan Rivers or the euthanasia law has been passed.


Here comes one in a wheel chair.

I have been defeated.

Also, I hate Donuts.


  1. A geriatric pant suit knit from old one liners used to cure writers block, but is a fun act of contrition for an even older desire to appear in Playboy. She had me at “FUCK YOU” and I’ll read some other of her posts.


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