two hundred word story (!)

You make me love you love you baby. Jamiroquai is lost in the sea of giddy seniors. It is Junior’s first deejay gig, and he hasn’t quite mastered the skill of pairing music to the audience. Mee-Maw got him the job—her new boyfriend is the Events Manager at Rosemont Retirement Center. He doesn’t even get a real booth. They’ve loaned him the podium from the chapel’s pulpit, decorated in pink Valentine’s Day doilies. Mee-Maw is demonstrating the Charleston to a happy lady in a walker.

“Sonny, you got any Sinatra?” A little woman in a wheelchair is peeking up at him. She appears to only have one nostril, but is pretty anyway.

“Sure, somewhere,” he lies, scrolling through his iPod. He figures he’ll find a slow Earth Wind and Fire song and try to pass it off; she won’t hear the difference. He changes the song. She remains, staring expectantly up.

“I’m old, not deaf,” she says.

“No ma’am.”

“Gimme that thing.” She reaches for the iPod. Junior panics, looks for Mee-Maw. The woman presses a button. Rosemont transforms.

Who…let the dogs out!

The woman rolls away. The dance floor bustles. Junior blinks. Mee-Maw approaches.

“Senioritis,” she says knowingly.