“Some kind of documentary,” replied someone.
“On managing your digestion,” another added.
Evening arrived. Residents gathered in the recreational room. By screening-time several seats remained empty.
“Where’s what’s his name?”
“You mean Mr. Sloan? Saw him at lunch,” a wheelchair-bound man answered. “Said he was tired of getting lowdowns about ailing body parts when I talked about my bad knees. Didn’t want to hear more organ recitals.”
A bewildered Mrs. Clements tuned in: “What organ recital?”
Next day, news spread of the elusive gentleman. He snuck out of the seniors’ lodging to party at a nightclub.