Nana George

Name: Nana George aka Doris George aka Little Lovely aka Steve’s Grandmother.
Encountered In: Bournemouth, England. May 4 through 19.

"Stupid boys."

For us a trip overseas is never complete without a visit to Bournemouth, England. Not because there’s anything to do there (unless you really dig libraries and gay clubs), but because it is there that we can bask in the warm hospitality of Steve’s grandmother, Nana George. Despite her modesty, she cooks tasty meat, potatoes and lemon cakes; and despite any temperate airs, she keeps the wine and gin-n-tonics flowing like the Alum Chine.

Along with these things, she can be counted on for a rousing game of scrabble, amusing speculations on the sexual habits of daytime chat show guests, a bus trip to the local ghost-conjuring Spiritualist church, and — most of all — her patented acerbic no-holds-barred stories, slams and criticisms about anything and everything, especially you. And especially if you’re as terrible as guests as we are. Here’s a compilation of the things we did that we shouldn’t have done, and the subsequent blunt judgments of Nana George – if we were able to stop giggling and write them down:

Going to the library every morning (save Sundays) for up to two or more hours to use the reserved internet computers (for very important Couchsurfing and Dank Botting purposes). Nana George’s comment, “You love that blooming place… You’re not hiding some women there are you?”

Constantly showing up late for dinner because we were getting lost in Poole or elsewhere. Nana was brief in these situations, “Oh, you ARE stupid!”

Failing to grasp the basics of carving a chicken.

Nope!

Finished her whisky. Well, she told us we could. And, alright, we poured it into a flask which we didn’t finish until nearly two months later, on the 4th of July.

Made her watch the first ten minutes of “Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels”. Not your standard 88 year old’s cup of tea, as it turns out.

Tried to broaden her social horizons by telling her she should start a gossip club with the old ladies in the building. “No!” (Steve makes next point) “NO!” (Steve tries another angle) “NOOOO!” Alright.

Brought smelly crisps into her house. She didn’t see the appeal of synthetic Kangaroo flavoring.

"Waka waka" didn't touch on these

Left three Danville calendars hidden in her bedroom. Steve’s mom found them a few weeks later on her own visit, her response: “Did I pass the Where’s Waldo-type competition?”

Didn’t let her win at Scrabble. After the third night of not coming in first place, and not being able to beat Steve despite his having five ‘i’s at one point (which made her laugh so hard that she couldn’t breath), she didn’t want to play any more.

Didn’t take her to this event. If we’d just stayed a few more days…

In attempting to help with chores, Devon flips his mattress around, to the side that says “Do Not Leave Mattress This Side Up”. “Which one of you managed to get through university as an illiterate?”

Steve breaks the hall bathroom’s glass light fixture: “Well… I suppose this task is finished… I moan about my maid so much. I won’t anymore… Looks very nice in there now. Very bright!” Steve later suggested he clean the tiles in the other bathroom next; NG wouldn’t even hear a full sentence of the proposition. “Nooooooooo no no no! Noooo.” But, Steve protested, the light falling was unrelated. “No more tasks. Nooooo.” We can’t do anything? “You can go down the road, fine. We’ll be out of gin soon.”

Steve leaves his retainer in her bathroom: “I looked at that thing you put in your mouth last night. It was in my bathroom. It’s all red. I thought it looked like blooood.” Steve: Yeah, it’s red. I had them make it that color. “Stupid!”

A Previous George Gathering

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About Steve and Devon

Yeah! We're the best!
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