She had a pink computer and sang as she beckoned the spirits of her departed father. “Got to watch out or your Uncle will kill you.” Because it’s obvious there’s a bad man out tonight. Don’t stray out on the roads or there’ll be a fight. Someone’s going down tonight and it’s not going to be me.
She carries all her bags with her. She doesn’t smell bad per-say which is kind of amazing considering she’s wearing three pairs of pants and four pairs of socks in the 106 degrees last day of July Heat. It’s not clear what she wants from life. Money? Sure she says she wants a job. But she’s singing to a tune that’s not playing. I know because she asked me to help her turn on her headphones after sitting there singing along with nothing for 30 minutes, headphones not working, but in.
She flees the vicinity to talk on the phone. The guy next to me turns, “She’s bat shit crazy. Before you got here she was telling me that I was going to go to jail or something.” “Yeah when I sat down I was like ‘I have made a terrible mistake.’” “I wish there was some way I could have warned you to sit somewhere else. Like there’s plenty of seats open over there.” Ah, the things we wish for after we sit down next to a crazy lady.
Out in the parking lot, she’s yelling at an ambulance driving by yelling at it, “Take care Brothers! Take CARE Brothers!” I find this slightly terrifying and also reminiscent of past experiences with ambulances. Also, she’s the only one even reacting to the emergency taking place outside, literally in my case inside the coffee shop, of all of our lives. An emergency, maybe someone’s dying. I used to pray every time I heard the sirens sounding by. I don’t anymore.