Limp son

The man on the next table’s lovingly referring to his aging parents in terms of equity release and his understandable concerns about his diminishing lump sum. I was lured in initially:

“If they die in the next 10 years…”

thinking he was sitting on the edge of grief

Awaiting the worst

Not rubbing his filthy rich fingers

Arranging the hearse.

“How long do you leave it before you enjoy all that you’ve accumulated?”

It doesn’t seem like he’s been having any problems so far. Now he seems to be demanding sympathy for the cost of his travel insurance for his meagre 6 holidays a year. His elderly female companions oblige.

He’s anaemic,

haemoglobin down.

Someone suggests a holiday.

I’m not sure if it’s a joke.

No one seems to have grasped the iron-y.

Now he’s dividing the bill. Down to the last penny. His intentions are pure. His wallet is bulging. His companions are poor.