Normal People Like Dinner

You'd think this were Disneyland, by the way these people are grinning, thought the Batman as Bruce Wayne smiled back. A young woman whose nametag said "Jade" was showing him the features in his condo.

"Since you selected the larger, two-bedroom model, you have a walk-in closet - the light switch is over here - or we can have the place wired up with Clappers if you'd prefer...." Bruce suppressed a groan.
After the circus left, Bruce sank into his couch, and propped his feet up on the coffee table. He surveyed the room through half-closed eyes. It was mid-afternoon, his drowsiest time of day. The cheerful room, with its natural, filtered light streaming from the patio French doors, made the furniture he brought from the manor look strangely - happy. Maybe happy is good, he thought as he drifted into a nap - normal people like happy.

***

Five o'clock came all too soon. Dinner would have almost started by then, and Bruce wanted to wash up a little before appearing at the dining hall. He splashed some cool water on his face, combed his hair back, slapped on a little cologne, scratched Ace's ear and left the room. Ace laid on the couch, staring quizzically at the closing door.

The line for the dining room nearly went around the corner. Except for a few stragglers with wheelchairs and oxygen tanks, he was the last resident to show up. The double doors were still closed, but Bruce heard considerable movement from the front of the line. He craned his neck slightly to peer over the other residents' heads, and saw several people jostling for position in line. A few had walkers and canes, and they being used to gain or defend positions. Before it came to blows, the double doors opened, and the residents filed in. This whole procession made Bruce think of surly, gray-haired children.

Most retirement homes serve meals buffet-style, but at the Heritage Pines, each meal should be a dining experience. Residents sit down at a table of their choice, and a server presents them with three or four choices from the menu,which changes daily. Today, Bruce chose the chicken almondine with rice pilaf and steamed vegetables. Soon after he had ordered, a wiry man with double hearing aids plunked down in the opposite chair.

"Hey, new guy," he said with a grin, "how are ya? my name's Mike." Mike extended a hand. Bruce took the hand and gave it a firm shake. "Hi, Mike - Bruce Wayne," he said, trying not to be annoyed by the intrusion. This is what normal people do, he reminded himself, it's considered being friendly. Mike raised his eyebrows.
"Bruce Wayne! I remember you from all those tabloids. Me, I used to work at Foxteca - MIS Director," Mike looked around surreptitiously before continuing. "You can score big with the ladies here, trust me. A guy's never had it this good - it almost makes up for all the times I didn't score in hig school and college," he said with a laugh. "And if you need, you know, Viagra, I'll hook you up, There's plenty of birds here for us to share, know what I mean?"

Bruce forced a chuckle - Batman wanted to growl. "Well, uh, thanks for the offer, Mike. I'll remember that. But I'm not permanent here, a least not yet. I'm just checking the place out, to see if I want to stay." Mike nodded in agreement.

"That's a good idea," he said. "You've got to feel comfortable where you live, and you don't want to end up in a place that steals your money and the nurses beat you up," Mike paused as a petite "blonde" woman passed by slowly. She smiled slyly at Mike, and her hips switched back and forth suggestively. A moment passed and Mike came back to Earth.
"Hey, it was good talking to you, Bruce," he finally said with a grin as he rose. "But your food just arrived, and my buddy just showed up, so I'll see you around." He waved quickly, and then went in pursuit. The Batman smirked. So this is what life gets reduced to, he thought, almost humorously, as he ate dinner undisturbed, in silence.

***

After dinner the residents seemed to move as one to the large and cosy sitting room off the garden. As Gotham's red hued sun slipped behind a dark hill the elderly turned their faces indoors - to the net.

Bruce could hardly imagine what they wanted to watch they could not download later, privately, in their own rooms. It wasn't like each room didn't have it's own connections. It seemed to him that these people, these normal people, knew what they were doing as they fought their ways to the most comfortable chairs. Perhaps he should copy them and secure a prized chair himself.
Batman told him he didn't think the old women could handle his opening a can of 'whoop-ass' on the nearest of them.

"Hey! Bruce!" Mike's hand shot up from nowhere and dragged Bruce down to a well padded sofa. Bruce sunk deep into the seat and was unsure he could get out without a helping hand.
"Saved you a seat!" Mike told him proudly.
"Uh - thanks." Bruce replied. "What for?" He regretted it the moment he asked the question. It seemed like everyone turned on him in complete, abject, horror.
"Christ." Mike gasped, the 'blonde' beside him giggled.
"For Detective Hedgeson silly." She scolded. Bruce wracked his brains but he couldn't connect this to anything. But then the screen drew breath and came to life - clearing up all his questions.

Detective Hedgeson: Gotham Watch was a popular show. At this time each week a new episode was ready to be downloaded for the first time and watched. Hedgeson was an elderly, but still attractive member of Gotham's police force. He solved crimes by about half way through the episode and by the second half he had confronted the police chief, proved himself better than Batman by solving some ancient and previously unsolved case; and slept with the younger female detective of the week.

As the credits rolled the inmates of Heritage Pines Retirement Home started to chatter about the show.
"I never saw that one coming I tell ya!" Mike announced, slapping his thigh as he turned to Bruce. "I mean, McGowel as the suspect? How cool was that?"
"Stunning." It was all Batman, from the 'die scum' voice to the hard, cold, blue eyes. Mike didn't seem to notice.
"Are you going to be needing anything tonight Bruce?" He asked. "Cause you know," lewd wink "I think I'm getting lucky."
"I must go walk my dog." Bruce said in a very tightly controlled voice. He stood, gripping his cane firmly, and walked out the room.

***

"ACE!" He bellowed, almost panicking, half convinced that somehow this place had gotten to his dog too. Ace leapt from the couch and looked at him as if to say
Where's the fire?
"You're okay." Bruce breathed a sigh of relief, scratching the dog behind his ears. Ace whined happily then scratched at the door. "Yeah." Bruce agreed. "Let's go for a walk."

The grounds of Heritage Pines Retirement Home were extensive. He walked through the more well kept gardens, past the entrance to the golf course and out to the small false lake at the edge of the grounds. There he threw a stick for Ace a few times, knowing that the dog preferred to catch blunted batarangs.
"Oh! Bother!" A frustrated female voice said behind him. Bruce had only the tiniest of warnings, the sound of grass being squashed by a swift movement, the whistle of a body through air - he ducked and swung around, ready with his cane to beat his assailant senseless.
The large Dalmatian looked up at him, wagging her tail, her tongue rolling out the side of her mouth.

"I do apologize." The female hurried up to him. She was about his age, elegant, although she could not be called pretty with the frown lines that edged her face. She scowled at him now even as she apologized.
"Tinsel gets a little excited when she sees new dogs." The woman waved a hand towards Tinsel who was leaping circles around Ace. Ace, the poor thing, was looking completely terrified, totally unsure of how to handle the situation.
"Ace is a little . . . uh . . ." antisocial, mal-adjusted, vigilante-ed, "new at handling people - eh - other dogs." Bruce said. The woman looked at him sceptically.
"I see." She said. She made no attempt to call her dog off and the Dalmatian was starting to jump on top of Ace. Bruce was at a loss as to what to say.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" She asked, for the first time look amused. Bruce stared at her.
"Uh . . . "
"Metropolis? Early nineties?" The woman goaded, she laughed. "Yes - the greatest detective indeed."
"Lois?" Bruce half stammered. Lois Lane turned away and whistled sharply.
"Tinsel! Mutt get your ass over here." She walked off, leaving Bruce and Ace standing.