Hi everyone - am back online for a bit now, so as a quick 'intro' here's a little bit of utter nonsense you may find amusing!
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Great Aunt Doris
Greg was very fond of his Great Aunt Doris; she wasn’t your average miserable, grumpy old lady, no, Doris enjoyed life as much as any 85 year old could, given the restraints of her arthritis and various other age – related medical problems.
Greg visited Great Aunt Doris often and spent many an afternoon after his appointment at the dole office, playing poker or black jack with her and enjoying a glass or two together.
Now, young Greg enjoyed a smoke and Doris never complained as her secondary smoking of his cigarettes relaxed her, gave her a lift.
One rainy afternoon, she and Greg had finished their card game and Doris was sitting absent-mindedly gazing out of the window while Greg had his feet up enjoying a smoke, when Doris decided to ask him for one of his cigarettes.
Greg was rather taken aback at her request.
‘But you don’t smoke Aunt Doris’
‘I always used to, until that blessed doctor made me pack up’ she replied, ‘and your cigarettes always smell rather nice’
After much cajoling on Doris’s part, Greg eventually agreed to roll her a mild one.
She watched intently as he sprinkled green stuff in with the tobacco.
‘What’s that for dear?’ she asked ‘it looks like dried parsley’
‘Oh, just some special herbs’ replied Greg, ‘they’ll help you to relax, but don’t smoke too quickly, and if it makes you feel sick, just stop and put it out’
‘Ok dear’ replied Doris, anxious to sample the herbal cigarette.
‘Oh, and you might get the munchies afterwards’ added Greg, feeling that he should keep his Great Aunt well informed
Doris laughed, ‘the munchies – what do you mean Greg?’ she asked
‘Well, you’ll probably want to eat things, like ice cream or chocolate – or whatever’ he replied, ‘so best you check you’ve got plenty of nibbles in your cupboard’
‘Oh, that’s no problem’ replied Doris, with a smile, ‘I’ve usually got at least two packets of chocolate digestives in store’
Greg finished rolling the joint and handed it to his Great Aunt, who examined it thoroughly before placing it between her lips and lighting up.
After some initial coughing and spluttering Doris was puffing away quite merrily, becoming ever more light-headed and rather giggly, occasionally chuckling to herself at nothing in particular as the drug took effect.
Greg watched her with some trepidation – he didn’t want the old dear snuffing it, but he rather enjoyed seeing her so relaxed and happy.
Eventually she finished her cigarette, and nodded off to sleep for an hour or so.
Greg cleared the cards away and washed up the wine glasses while she dozed, and then left a note for her propped up against the biscuit tin, saying that he’d see her again soon.
The following day, Great Aunt Doris was on the phone to Greg.
‘Come round and see me dear, and bring some more of those lovely herbs with you please’
Greg went to see his Great Aunt who was in a particularly happy frame of mind, instead of the usual woman’s hour, her radio was turned up at least 2 notches higher than normal playing the chart hits, and Doris was humming along to the music as she opened the door and greeted him with a big hug.
‘Come on in Greg dear, now, can you buy me some of those herbal cigarettes? I’ve decided to start smoking again as I really enjoyed the one I had yesterday - and I had the best nights sleep I’d had in years’
Greg had to tell her the truth - which wasn’t too much of a problem as they’d always spoken freely.
‘I can’t Aunt Doris, they’re illegal’
‘So what?’
‘You might get arrested if anyone sees you smoking them’
‘You think I care at my age?’
‘Sorry Aunt Doris’
Greg couldn’t risk his Great Aunt getting arrested for possession – and himself possibly being done for supplying.
‘Oh dear, look, I’m sure we can work this out’ smiled Aunt Doris, ‘now, come along; lets get our heads together’
Greg grinned to himself, he knew he was on a loser - when Aunt Doris wanted something she always got her way – and he’d never put up much of a fight with her anyhow; she was his favourite relative and could always wind him round her little finger whenever she wished…but he loved her to bits and would do anything for her.
And so, after about an hour and Great Aunt Doris promising never to smoke outside of her own little bungalow, the deal was done.
Greg left her a little supply of herbal cigarettes tucked away in the empty tea tin she kept on the dresser.
After a few days, Great Aunt Doris suddenly found that she had a new lease of life; her aches and pains were diminishing – and to her amazement, she discovered that her long lost libido was returning!!
Now, that was a dilemma - she’d been quite something in her youth, her striking resemblance to Hollywood icon Jayne Russell had not gone unnoticed by the young men who flocked around her, and she’d always been a party girl - the stories she could tell about the fun she’d had with the G.I.’s during the war were something else - but there was only so much that good underwear and face creams could do, and despite her best efforts more and more wrinkles had set in, her once firm bits had become saggy and gravity had begun taking everything south, sadly her admirers had become fewer and fewer, (apart from some of the old men at the day centre- who were really only interested in having someone to iron their shirts) until she finally had to admit defeat and resign herself to an old age of chastity –
But now she felt distinctly amorous again…
Great Aunt Doris had a confidential chat with Greg, who explained that with first time and occasional users the drug often had that effect.
‘Really?’ exclaimed Doris, ‘will it always work that way?’
‘As long as you don’t become heavily addicted, save it for, say, weekends, then yes, it should do’ replied Greg
Doris was absolutely ecstatic, ‘How marvelous!’ she beamed with delight.
‘You enjoy yourself Aunt Doris’ said Greg, ‘You know I’ll always look after you’
‘I think it’s probably time for a tea party’ giggled Doris, ‘now, who can I invite?’
She pondered over possible guests for a few minutes, and then Greg suggested that she invite the slightly younger, but recently widowed Mr. Jordan from down the road.
‘What a wonderful idea’ said Doris, ‘yes; he’s quite a handsome chap, thank you Greg’
‘You’re welcome Aunt Doris’ replied Greg, giving her a hug, ‘you go and have yourself a real good time’
The following day, Doris dolled herself up and delivered her invitation.
Mr Jordan said he’d be delighted, and Great Aunt Doris noted that he had nicotine stains on his fingers – that was a good start.
‘I’ll see you around 3 o’clock then,’ she beamed as she bade him goodbye.
At 3 o’clock, Mr. Jordan arrived at Doris’s home; by 5 o’clock they’d eaten sandwiches and fairy cakes and had downed a bottle of the corner shops’ best red.
‘A game of cards, Mr. Jordan?’ enquired Aunt Doris, shuffling the pack.
‘What fun - I hope you don’t mind if I smoke?’ replied Mr. Jordan, ‘Oh, and please call me Harold.’
‘Of course not Harold, here, have one of mine – they’re herbal’ she said with a wink.
‘How intriguing; thank you, now what shall we play?’
‘I rather like poker – and we can make it interesting, if you’d like’ replied Doris, her dark eyes twinkling mischievously.
By 6pm Doris and Harold were playing strip poker, with barely a stitch on between them and giggling like a couple of 5 year olds.
8pm found 4 ‘herbal’ cigarette stubs in the ashtray and the two of them in Doris’s bed, making like rabbits – (thanks to the Viagra that Greg had very kindly obtained for them) For Harold who’d raised nothing more than a smile for the past twenty –odd years, this was nothing short of a miracle; for Doris, who’d almost forgotten what it was like, this was the beginning of party time!
‘Thank you for such a wonderful time’ enthused Harold as he left at 11am the following morning, ‘I can’t remember having as much fun since Dorothy died – or even when she was alive come to that … oh, and please ask your great nephew if he could get me some of those lovely herbal cigarettes’
A somewhat flushed and disheveled Doris smiled broadly ‘I’ll do what I can Harold and let you know, please call again – very soon’
As she stood in her doorway watching Harold jauntily making his way home, Doris vowed that from there on in, come hell or high water, she was going to spend the rest of her life growing old as disgracefully as she possibly could.
Greg received another phone call and duly went to visit his extremely happy Great Aunt.
After much debate about supplying her regular cigarettes, he realised that she’d be supplying half the other pensioners along the road before long; he had an idea.
‘Aunt Doris, how would you like to make a bit of extra money – cash in hand?’
‘Now that would be very useful’ she replied, and after an hour or so of filling her in with the details, Great Aunt Doris was all set to become Doris the Dealer.
Greg had agreed to roll the cigarettes prior to supply as arthritic hands don’t manage the rolling of joints very easily, but no one minded paying a little extra to save them the trouble and so Doris’s deals were easily disguised in normal looking cigarette packs.
As word spread among the pensioner community, Doris became extremely busy meeting other pensioners in the supermarket coffee shop twice a week to sell her little packs of herbal cigarettes, along with the odd Viagra pill or two for those who found life a little difficult in that area; Tuesdays – which was ‘half price for pensioners’ day, regularly saw her surreptitiously slipping packs to the women either side of her in the hairdressing salon under the very convenient cover of the voluminous capes the hairdressers always insisted they wore. She also had a nice little sideline in Herbal tea cakes which she baked for those whose lungs weren’t up to smoking – and she even decorated them with bright yellow smiley faces iced on top!
Doris was making some decent extra cash on the side, she had her hair done every week and boasted an extensive new wardrobe – and she hadn’t looked back since discovering the Ann Summers catalogue. Her house parties were an absolute riot!
She was now saving up for a Caribbean cruise, and had her sights set on bagging a handsome young toy boy to while away her time with.
A month or so later, the local GP came to realise that his surgery was becoming emptier as the weeks passed, none of his elderly patients were coming for their sleeping pills, anti-depressants or pain-killers anymore – ‘how very odd’ he thought to himself.
He decided to pay a visit to some of his regulars one Saturday afternoon, but found that most of the bungalows he’d knocked the doors of went unanswered.
He continued on his rounds until he arrived at Doris’s house, where he heard laughter resounding from within, long before he’d reached the door.
‘Come in, come in’ trilled Doris as he knocked, ‘the more the merrier’
Dr Hardcastle could scarcely believe his eyes.
In Doris’s smoke – filled front room was what can only be described as an Octogenarian Hippie Convention.
A ‘Peace and Love’ banner was draped across the far wall; Doris’s gilt framed print of Constables ‘Haywain’ had been replaced with a framed A0 sized black and white print of a naked and smiling John and Yoko, a copy of Pink Floyd’s album cover, ‘Dark side of the Moon’ now hung where ‘Anne Hathaway’s cottage’ used to be, and a wind chime depicting psychedelic coloured cannabis leaves tinkled a metallic tune as it hung in front of the window.
Doris herself appeared rejuvenated; she had her face made up, her dark eyes sparkling under a whisper of gold eye shadow and sooty kohl eyeliner, her smile enhanced with glossy pink lips; she had changed her hairstyle and instead of the usual neatly coiffed style her silver curls - which now sported purple and pink streaks among them - bounced with wild abandon around her face among a myriad of tiny rainbow coloured ribbons; brightly painted beaded hoops adorned her ears and her dark blue skirt and sensible cardigan had been replaced with a long, flowing creation in a mélange of deep pink, blue and purple, accessorised with an iridescent fringed silk shawl draped loosely around her shoulders, gold beaded mules on her feet and a multitude of beads in varying lengths cascading around her neck.
Her sideboard was literally heaving with party goodies, there were cans of beer and bottles of wine amid all manner of food from sausage rolls, cheese biscuits and little sandwiches to strawberry cheesecake, chocolate gateau, cookies, chocolate biscuits and several plates piled high with little yellow-iced, smiley face tea cakes.
At least twelve or more of his elderly patients, all drinking, laughing and passing cigarettes around were there, music was playing loudly and some of the women with flowers in their hair were swaying to the melodic sound of Dr Hook’s ‘A little bit more’ amid the enthusiastic clapping of geriatric hands from their appreciative audience.
Old Mr. Brown and Mrs. Jenkins were sitting naked and cross legged facing one another on the floor by the sofa, sharing a cigarette and engrossed in a ‘meaningful discussion’...
Even 92 year old Mrs. Pensworthy was slumped in an armchair with her legs splayed over the arms and her clothing in disarray; she had an empty beer can in her hand, a circlet of daisies around her forehead and a huge grin on her face.
Dr Hardcastle sniffed the air – he’d wondered about the strange aroma that first greeted him, but now he suddenly recognised it from his student days –
‘Do any of you know what you’re smoking?’ he demanded.
‘Oh yes!’ everyone chorused, ‘isn’t it wonderful?’
‘My God!’ exclaimed Dr Hardcastle, ‘you could all be arrested’
‘Oh no we can’t’ replied Doris, sidling up to the Doctor with a wicked smile, her voice husky from the effects of cigarettes and drink, ‘This is a private party, in a private house, and it’s all our own personal supplies; not a single penny has changed hands –
Now, tell me Doctor, how do you feel about enjoying an ‘older woman’ experience?’