Lunch with Auntie Mame

 

I’ve written before about a woman who usually wears velvet pantsuits who lives here at the continuum care complex and who I’ve dubbed Auntie Mame because she’s loud, funny, out-going and friendly. But the thing I find especially fun about her is that she’s got this running joke going about how she wants to start a Scandals & Gossip Newspaper here on campus and shove them under our doors at night. Little does she (or anyone else know) that I write a version of that scandals and gossip rag and I shove it out into cyberspace.

She’s been pet sitting at her son’s house and hasn’t been on campus for almost a month so when she showed up at lunch recently I knew I’d be sitting in the cafe` longer than usual. This particular day she was on a role giving beauty tips for how to put on eyeliner and how to lose magnetic eyelashes. She also said she doesn’t make plans for anything past six months because---well, because she’s 86. That’s when I found out that I’m one of the youngest people in our merry band of misfits. Everyone around the table was over the 80 mile marker and I’m just barely under it. 

Things I did not know before Lunch: That elderly women can sit around talking about how and where to get the best eyebrow tattoos and microblading in town. I don’t really want them but I was surprised that at least four women here have them. I’d be afraid that I’d get a color or shape that I didn’t like or that a tattoo artist would give me what she or he thinks is stylish and not what I’d necessarily think is the cat’s mew. How many times have we explained how we wanted our hair cut only to walk out of a salon with a head of hair that looking entirely different? Tattoos and microbladng are permanent including the infections you can get from all those little cuts that are made with microblading. Look at me, using a word I didn’t even knew existed until our lunch conversation which, by the way, came with a lot of laughter. 

The oldest lady at the table has been dubbed The Queen Bee by others but not by me. Named so because she is often be found sitting in a large wing-backed chair in front of the fireplace holding court. She has tattooed eyebrows and is going in to get them done again because, she says, they've faded over the years. Eyebrow pencil and eyebrow paint are the only cosmetic additions to my face that I won't leave my apartment without. Even though I hate having one brown eyebrow and one gray one I wouldn’t in a hundred years get them tattooed to match. Tried getting them dyed to match once but the technician got dye in my eye and I thought I’d die. Never again.

At that lunch we covered hair dying and magnetic eye lashes and we learned how to make little dots along your eye lid when applying eyeliner. If I ever used eyeliner in the past it was for about a minute and a half. I could never get that stuff on back when I had a steady hand and now with wrinkles around my eyes I can only imagine how I’d look if I tried it now. No wonder some of these women get up at six o`clock if they feel compelled to do a full face of make up before leaving their apartments. I could sure used some foundation to cover up all the blemishes I’ve picked up since masks have come into required fashion. I have worse skin now than I did when I was a teen with a face full of acne. I had even planned to start wearing some make up after I got my cataracts removed when I thought I’ve be able to trust the colors I’m seeing. But so far I haven’t bothered. I have mastered putting earrings on, though. Wearing studs every day has improved my finger dexterity. I still pull the stoppers on the sinks before I mess with my earrings though, so they don’t accidentally end up down the drain.

I might not have a face full of make up that looks like I’m airbrushed to perfection like a few ladies here but I found out I have one thing others admire. I have thick, naturally wavy hair that still needs thinning when I get it cut and it requires nothing more than a wash job twice a week. I guess paying $57 plus aincludin tip to get it cut every four weeks is worth it. Several of the ladies here use the onsite hairdresser who comes to your apartment. She does a fabulous job but I’m not ready for that yet. The first time I have to pee at the salon where I go might make me reconsider that choice though. They have a toilet that I swear was made for midgets. I don’t think I could get back up if I ever sat on it. I took one look at it and made a beeline home instead. Getting old comes with all kinds of perils like that and few pluses unless you count three hour lunches that are often better than going to a comedy club.

Well, I’ve got to go get cleaned up for lunch. Today is fire drill day and if I have to put up with listening to them testing those bells all over the campus I might was well be where I can watch the firemen and women walking back and forth through the lobby. It’s the only time when I’m glad I don’t have a dog anymore. Robbie’s mom takes him on long walks when they test or she drops him off at the groomers when we know a drill is on the schedule. ©