A Wicked Waiting Room

Sometimes this job makes me feel like an attendant in God’s waiting room. Every day is a slightly blurry carbon copy of day before repeated ad infinitum, ad nauseam etc.

So in order to break the monotony Humphrey and I took another trip to Harrington Manor to see his nuttier than a fruitcake better half, Moe. As this trip took place on a Sunday Harrington Manor was bustling with visitors and in-mates. The smell of urine was noticeably absent and majority of the lifers were gathered in the sitting room, except for Moe. We found her in her bedroom carefully shredding a chocolate box and stashing it in her underwear drawer. I noted that she had one pink slipper on and one blue one, but decided not to interfere. Moe was rather pleased to see us and introduced us to the various stuffed animal toys in the room, before putting them in her underwear drawer alongside the chocolate box rippings:

Humphrey: [Spying the ripped rubbish] Let me take that Moe, I’ll find a bin for it.

Moe: Yes, thank you darling.

Humphrey: [Studying the handful of rubbish, spies an unidentifiable red plastic object] What’s this Moe? You best keep it in case you need it.

Moe: [Studying the plastic piece in Humphrey’s hand.] No, I don’t need that.

Humphrey: Are you sure? I think I’ll put it here. [Places object on side table.]

Moe: Oh, no that’s an Ancient Monument you can’t put it there. Put it in the drawer.

After Humphrey had placed the ‘Ancient Monument’ in the drawer we sauntered down to the sitting room to a cup of tea amongst the other lifers. I noticed that “Oh was a wicked waste of time” who I shall henceforth name Wicked was sitting in her usual chair by the door and muttering to herself. Another gentleman with a Zimmer frame was in a couch opposite us (Norm), perched next to him was a delightful little dear with matching Zimmer frame, lets call her Mabel.

Humphrey: [To Moe] Hurry up dear and drink your coffee.

Moe: It’s not coffee it’s tea.

Humphrey: Well tea then. Hurry up and drink it so I can take your cup.

[At this point Norman attempts to get up.]

Moe: [To Norman] C’mon old chap, upsie daisies! Bottoms up!

[Norman’s attempt fails, he sits back down. Mabel smiles sweetly at me.]

Humphrey: C’mon dear, drink your tea.

[Norman attempts to rise again.]

Moe: [To Norman] That’s the spirit. Up you come. [Norman manages to get up and shuffles across the room.] LIFT OFF!

Wicked: [From her chair in the corner Wicked can be heard muttering] Bloody waste of time this place. You’re hungry, you’re thirsty they don’t care BITCHES.

Humphrey: Come on Moe. Drink your cup of tea.

Moe: I’m busy I’m watching Norman do his laps, I think his trousers are about to come off. [Norman is now pacing back and forth and his brown belt-less cords are indeed in danger of falling down. An orderly pulls them up at the crucial moment.]

[Mabel smiles sweetly at me.]

Wicked: [Still muttering in the background] The bastards, the buggers. Leave you here to die. Don’t give a bugger about you.

Humphrey: Drink your tea Moe.

Moe: [Ignoring Humphrey watching Norman’s Zimmer pacing with rapt attention] That’s the spirit Boyo, back and forth, back and forth, forth and back.

[At this point Mabel attempts to get up, no doubt to join Norman’s zimmered ramblings, Mabel’s first upward attempt is unsuccessful.]

Moe: [To Mabel] Upsie Jump. Get to the top.

Mabel: [Flopping back into chair] Up to the top to start the day again. [Second attempt to rise is successful] And what a perfect day it is.

[Mabel shuffles forward and fixes me with the sweetest little smile.]

Mabel: [To Me] I must thank you for coming dearie. It was so lovely to see you and we all have enjoyed your visit so.

Me: Oh, thank you so much. I enjoyed visiting you.

Mabel: You must come and see us again. We do love it so.

Me: I promise I’ll be back.

Mabel: Make sure you do dear. I’m off to lunch now.

And with that Humphrey and I took our leave. The sound of Wicked’s muttering followed us down the hall, “That’s right leave me here to rot, you bastards.”

Somebody up there has a dubious sense of humour.