OLD FARTS: Jimmy the rat's love dilemma!!!!!!!!!

OLD FARTS: Jimmy the rat

Why he was called Jimmy the rat has been lost in the sands of time that been carried away by the winds of lost memory. What is even more intriguing that at the age 79 he still does not mind being known as Jimmy the Rat. As old farts go these days, he is no more a rat than any of the world’s old farts population.

He popped in the other evening to have one or two with the Friday beer adoration society not too far from where I live. Halfway through the proceedings, Jimmy begged for their undivided attention because he needed their advice. “As you guys know I have been an empty nester since Jinnelle left us night 15 years ago. Leaving alone can be a tough life: you soon tire of cooking for one and take the easy way out and you eat that garbage called takeaway food. Soon you are not able to do any cleaning around the house and thing get not done and dust and particles of dirt build their own castles in nooks and corners which while Jinnelle was alive were spotless. Cleaners are cleaners, they will be as good and meticulous as Jinny but you have to down size on your expectations. No. How do you downsize on a clean home? Well keeping the kitchen clean was becoming a problem and it got to the point that I needed someone to rescue the kitchen, bathrooms etc.

“So, I have been through a few cleaners. The current Japanese lady and her husband (they must be all of 90 years old… each … but look a lot younger) are doing an acceptable, not quite the standard of Jinny the spotless but I think acceptable enough.

“Had a world with the window cleaner and tried to explain the Jinny method of getting all glass in the house spot but gave up because I could not remember (or I had no idea in the first place) what Jinny’s secret was. Well, we can’t all be Jinny perfect and not everybody is a saint (that is what she used to say).

“Very impressed with the horticulturalist turned garden carer who is looking after the lawn. Got to the stage that with my neck and lower back problems, I could not handle the heavy whipper-snipper. I could handle the lawn mower but even that was becoming difficult.

“At the moment … washing the clothes is problem. Into the washer, into the dryer (or on the line). Fixed. Not a problem.

“Well as I head into the twilight zone of 80 years… I am feeling reasonably comfortable … and this happens: You guys remember my friend Gina Davis (No, not the actress, Thomas) who I meet with a whole mob of other people for a meal or a drink at the club. Well she asked me this question, in front of everyone else present: Would you like me for a roommate?

“Well, I never … if I was sitting on a high-chair I would have fallen off it, probably broken my neck and would never have had to deal with providing a diplomatic answer to her question. After many hours (it seemed) of regaining any composer I had left, I pretended I did not hear the question, but she persisted.

“I did not know what to say to her so I took the chicken-shit way out: ‘I will call you one of these days and we will discuss it.’ I was tempted to ask why but with a hundred nosing ears pretending not to be there but were listening with all their might, I might have been subject to even more shame and misery. I never really knew why that thought entered my mind. It did and it also became an uninvited resident in my head. And for the many, many weeks after that I ignored my mobile … after making sure it was Gina the gold-digger call and not one of my other friends or contacts.

“So guys, what should I do?”

Doctor Google, as usual was quick of the mark: “Let us consider the facts.

“Do you enjoy her company – yes but not someone to live with”

“Is she after your house, your money – no Roger left her quite well off.”

“What about her that you don’t like – smoking, of course, and she likes a drink or two or three or four.”

“You have been to her home, did it impress you – yes, of course, not as good Jinny’s housekeeping skills but OK, but she has a cleaner too.”

“Have you tasted her cooking?  -- a little bit, nothing to write home about.”

“She has a pretty garden, all her own work – I will give her that …. but man does not live by garden alone.”

“What is the one thing worrying you? – She might want sex and I can’t do that anymore I am all dried up.”

“Another thing, I am too old to share my bed or my bedroom”

Alan the singer piped in: “Goodbye, you two are not suited to share the same house.” “Exactly.”

Michael the dove, in his usually cooing voice, offered: “May be you guys have got it all wrong … maybe she is just offering to do the decent thing for a friend who might be ending up in an old folk’s home soon.”

Jimmy: “Wash your mouth with salt, castor oil and Lifeboy soap.”

Danno “Book him”: The little clever dick tried to humiliate Jimmy: “Whatever happened to sleepless in New York?” “Nothing. Just good friends. A potential romance destroyed by tyranny of distance even though I had a soft spot for her, off and on from the age of 14.”

“So why do you keep going to the Big Apple? “What’s not to love about the Big Apple?”

Peter the Owl: “Talk to her (with your daughter or son present). Have a real heart to heart. If you will not have her under any circumstances have the guts and the decency to tell her. She has been decent enough, and brave enough, to make the offer … you should at least respect that. With your children draw up a list of questions you want to ask her and after you have heard her just tell that one of these you may be going into a home … but thank her for her genuine concern, her very special caring, and most of all being a true friend.”

Orville the IT Nut: “Yes. Just have a chat with her … as a true friend and tell her how you feel. You don’t really want to hurt her and lose a great friend like her.”

There was considerable silence as each one present did the right thing and let their noses care for the insides of their beer pint glasses and they sought respite from a tricky dilemma in the holiest of amber liquids.

Then silence … the only noise was one that imagined …nuts and bolts in their brains having a bit of a set to.

If anyone has any thoughts on Jimmy’s dilemma, please post.

THEY had a chat yesterday after Mass over a Cappucino (several) for her and lots of tea for him. The end result was this: She said: I will come and stay if and when you need me. Don't forget I have my own life ... but if you are ill or in pain, I don't want you to be alone. I am happy to be there for you ... take you to the doctors, to the hospital if necessary (God forbid) ... whatever your needs are ... just happy to be there for you."

He is grinning from ear to ear ... and feeling better already.

She told him: That is what friend are for.