...Now, notes from the Old Folks Home.
Standing in front of the elevator door is similar to Forest Gump opening his box of chocolates, "You never know what's coming out." Yesterday I was awaiting the elevator when the door slid open and I was face-to-face with a sturdy woman, an iron bed rail in each hand, marking full force out the door. Retreat was mandatory.
Then there was an old male toddler who practices informally by holding his four legged walker in the full thrust position. Threatening.
Not to be excluded is the female motorized demon who is close to the interior of the door. With the flick of a switch she spurts out of the elevator, putting anyone awaiting the lift in jeopardy.
The proximity of elevators are a danger of the first order.
And finally, we've not seen the napkin thrower* since the incident a couple weeks ago.
End of Tales of the Old Folks Home**
*the napkin thrower refers to a story from a previous letter, which I'll see if I can find.
**Grandpa really did begin and end his tales with bold titles, such as this, centered on the page.
**Grandpa really did begin and end his tales with bold titles, such as this, centered on the page.
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