Obsession

This post started life as a comment in Jon's box.  Coke? Cock? You choose (cock of course!). 

My mother lives in a retirement village for the over 60s, a new man has recently* bought the flat opposite hers a "David Hunter" lookalike if you please (I had to google him, he was in Crossroads years ago apparently). 

A cock in the henhouse.

My mother and "David" real name Ken, share an entrance hall. My mother has a daily, but has taken to hoovering the outside entrance hall herself, twice a day in the hope of snaring a few moments with her new neighbour. My mother has had her white hair dyed champagne blonde, she has had her eyebrows micro bladed and is wearing ocelot blouses with chunky jewellery ala Bet Lynch circa 1985, but that's not the saddest thing I've discovered about my mother's wanton behaviour, when I paid her a visit this morning I noticed four round indentation marks in the Berber Twist, just behind her front door, it didn't take me long to work out what made those marks, they're from a wooden stool she uses to stand on when replacing light bulbs, she must sit on it all day long looking out of her spy hole in the middle of the door, desperate for a glimpse of her fantasy paramour. My mother is not the only one acting daft, Patricia who lives in the flat upstairs has had her ratty hair bobbed and Barbara who lives opposite Patricia looks noticeably slimmer.

* I say recently, he has being living there for a few months now.