Thursday, May 28, 2009

Talking to myself

It has been my experience, now that I am past the age of majority at least 2, close to 3 times, that the only person who really understands, enjoys and gets what I am saying is me. I know that there are a few folks out there who tolerate, scratch their heads, smile and wonder why and still enjoy my company. Then there is the rest of the world who just tilt their heads like obedient cocker spaniels and pass on by.
The reason I am addressing this post this morning is because I am facing the truth of my hermitage. I really don't go out as much as I used to. I find it harder all the time to not just torture folks with my Linda speak. I have way too much fun poking fun at others and I can just hear my dead Mother's voice saying "be nice Linda Sybil, don't you be ugly". Mom, shut up. I can't help it.
Have you noticed how folks have lost their sense of humor, whimsy, lightheartedness and minds? I think the sour ones gather at Walmart just waiting for one of my sortees. I have a friend who works as a cashier at Walmart, I don't get it but money is money. Margaret and I used to live on the same street. She and I have grandchildren who went to kindergarten together, so we have commonality. I have shared my life views with her and she with me. Now keep in mind, she works at Walmart so she sees it all.
There was a older man behind me in line who had but two items in his hot little hand. I said "go ahead of me, I'm not in a hurry". He replied "oh that's okay". My basket was overflowing with crap. As Margaret was working, we were talking. The more we talked, the more he started huffing and puffing. At one point he stepped on the back of my shoe trying to get to the counter to put his things down, before I was through unloading my basket. Then he started commenting under his breath but loud enough to be heard, "stupid old women". From the look on my face, Margaret could tell it was on like Donkey Kong. She asked him to be patient, he sighed again and started stomping his feet like the Jack Ass he was.
When we finished our transaction, I thanked Margaret, and locked my lips together as hard as I could (hearing Frances' voice again). Margaret then turned to the man and said "you know sir, I have seen her (meaning me) make better men than you, cry for less", she winked at me and said how proud she was that I was growing up.
Now that may not seem significant to you, but someone actually knew me well enough to warn this man that I don't suffer fools lightly and then congratulate me on not guttin him on the spot.
As I was putting things in the back of my car, he came up to me and said he was sorry for being so rude......................I'm back to talking to myself.

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