TIFU by providing ' spirits ' to two men who are dangerously close to becoming spirits themselves.

So , since early December , my grandma has been a resident at the local nursing and rehab home. Honestly , it's less of a medical center and more of a departure lounge for the ' Great Beyond ' and the gossip there is top tier. Thankfully for us , the place is located quite literally right across the street from my house. My commute there is approximately fourty-five seconds if im walking. Because of the geographic convenience , ive been visiting her every day for the last two months. Ive become such a fixture in that building that im basically the facility's emotional support human , minus the uniform and credentials and I have significantly more existential dread than the rest of the employees.

In that time ive managed to socialize my way into the good graces of the entire ecosystem. Im tight with the doctors , the nurses , aides and a rotating cast of residents who are all charmingly one foot in the grave already.

Now you think a nursing home would be a place of peace and tranquility. Instead though , this place is run like a maximum security prison for people who remember when bread was a nickel. The staff are all a bunch of fun suckers. They're a collection of self important power trippers who seem to have been recruited directly from a " How To Be A Buzzkill " seminar. Their favorite pastime is enforcing bogus ass rules with the kind of smug intensity usually reserved for TSA agents finding a 3.1 ounce bottle of shampoo.

Let's face it , most of the residents they house have lungs that are 80% tar and 20% stubbornness at this point. They're allowed to have cigarettes but are forced to surrender their packs and lighters to the front security desk. The guards distribute them only when they feel like it and usually with a side of bitchy attitude. It's infantilizing. These people are grown ass adults. Most have survived world wars and recessions yet they cant be trusted with a damn Bic ?

Because im there everyday , most of my resident friends trust me. Most of these poor souls spend 23 hours a day staring at a fuzzy TV screen and waiting on a tray of ice cold beige mush. More than half of them havent seen or had a visitor from a family member or friend in years. If a cigarette is the only thing that makes them feel alive while they wait out their end of days then who am I to deny them that happiness ? So , ive been running an underground ' Nicotine Railroad ' sneaking packs into rooms and hiding them.

Word of my courier services spread thru the ward faster than a rumor about a prune juice shortage. A few days ago , my other resident friends , we'll call them Mr. W and Mr. G , cornered me. At first it was the usual request , a pack of cigs and a vape. They paid me my standard hustle fee , just a couple bucks because honestly their SSI checks are mostly made of lint and optimism and im not a monster. I made the run to the gas station , delivered back and thought we were square until they instantly propositioned me again with another errand.

Between the two of them they slapped $40 in my hand as payment and asked me to run to the liquor store. In nursing home currency that's basically a small fortune. Now look , im an entrepreneur and im a sucker for easy money so I , of course , happily obliged. For the last three days in a row now though ive been smuggling in booze to these two men and you wanna know what the real kicker of this whole situation is though ?

I just found out that Mr. W and Mr. G arent just thirsty and tryna have fun ; they're both recovering alcoholics and ive made them relapse.

I feel like a massive piece of shit but on the other hand . . . fourty bucks is fourty bucks.

TL;DR: Started out smuggling cigarettes into a nursing home for the elderly out of the kindness of my heart. Ended up as a cut-rate cartel mule for two recovering alcoholic grandpas who are paying me handsomely to help them see double before they see God.