I Still Have Great Legs
people prolly saying: “yeah, right!”
A random man grasped my geriatric thigh in the elevator!
Once he began, he couldn’t stop himself. He continued feeling me up and down, surprised at how muscular these gams still are on an old gal.
I should’ve slapped down his fresh ass, but at sixty-eight, I find it hard to fend off sassy young men.
This guy was part of a moving crew. Seems someone is moving out of this dump every weekend. Can’t wait for my turn.
The elevator was stacked with furniture, but I squeezed in with my wheelchair the first time, then on crutches another time.
Fresh young lad lifts his palms at me, like: what’s up with that?
I explain: trying to get my legs working again.
That’s when he reaches down to manually inspect my thigh and was shocked to find, under my baggy britches, some muscular gams were hiding. It was fun to see pleasant surprise register on his face as he furthered his inspection.
He pretty much accosted my leg and I wasn’t going to be the one to warn the dude . . . I haven’t been thrown a piece of meat in about thirty years. Be careful what you provoke, young man.
