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Newark Marie, my 90 year old BFF.

11 Nov

“How ya doin?”

I am usually a fly on the wall here at Starbuck’s so the question caught me off guard.

Sitting next to me, almost invisible until she spoke, is a little old woman.

With a thick Jersey accent. And if I had meant, New Jersey, I would have said so. This woman is from Jersey.

“Fine, you?” I try to be polite, when I can. Plus, this woman is about 90 and from a generation I absolutely adore.

“I’m good, I’m good.” She took a sip of her coffee.

If memory serves, this is a generation that loves to chat over coffee.

Let’s see.

“What brings you to the beach today?”

And with that, we are off to the races.

Marie, my new friend, talks for the next 5 minutes straight. Pausing only to sip her coffee regularly and blow her nose twice.

She is waiting for her niece to come pick her up and take her to one of her daughter’s houses.

She flew in from Newark last night and was staying at a hotel up the street.

She is in town to see the family, she hadn’t seen them since Edgar died, her husband of 70 years.

No shit.

This entire conversation takes place with her severe Brooklyn accent. Also, Marie probably smoked for a portion of that 90 years, which gives her this deep husky voice, along with that accent.

She is an absolute pisser.

Marie has hit that age that she either doesn’t realize that she is mouthing off or no longer cares.

There are a few highlights that stand out in both my notes and my memory of my talk with Marie.

Her great grandson, Martin, might be a feg. For those who are not familiar with the Jersey accent, a feg is the word “Fag” with a thick accent.

Marie’s entire reason for suspecting Martin’s feet do not touch the ground, (Everybody got that?) is that Martin has a pierced nose and both ears are pierced.

The daughter she will be visiting with today is “Dina, the middle girl.” Dina is married to Frank and they have two kids. Edgar, God rest his soul, always suspected that Frank was retarded or at the least a communist.

She then proceded to stop in the middle of her sentance and glare at a woman in her twenties, walking by with a black dress and red heels.

Ah, red heels and the older generation.

As Marie put it, “That girl looks like a whore!” (Pronounced hoe-wuh)

This as the poor girl is still within earshot.

You never saw a head whip around so fast.

Then Marie regailed me with a story about when her aunt died in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner and no one noticed.

I love this woman.

There is such a frickin delight in hearing someone with a total lack of caring about what anyone might think. I still can’t figure out if it is a lack of understanding or caring. It still adds up to the same thing.

Rude talk in public.

With me as the giggling witness.

God, I love my life.

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9 Comments

Posted by on November 11, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

9 responses to “Newark Marie, my 90 year old BFF.

  1. Beach Mom

    November 11, 2011 at 8:03 am

    You are such a tease. I’m sure there is more to tell.

     
    • Bittermac

      November 11, 2011 at 8:05 am

      Always.

       
  2. Rockstar

    November 11, 2011 at 9:19 am

    OMG, I wanna meet her!!!

     
    • Beach Mom

      November 11, 2011 at 9:20 am

      Me too.

       
    • Bittermac

      November 11, 2011 at 9:39 am

      I would love it if she was a regular. I would make her my sidekick. Batman and Robin, Bittermac and Marie…….Got a ring to it.

       
  3. Betteroff

    November 11, 2011 at 10:13 am

    Sounds like a joy, and a grandma we both new? H e s s e e

     
    • Bittermac

      November 11, 2011 at 10:27 am

      My god I miss that woman. She loved you.

       
  4. cr

    November 11, 2011 at 11:16 am

    Entertaining, light hearted, funny, Just the kind of daily quick read I enjoy. I hope you invited Marie back for Monday morning coffee.

     
  5. Vicki

    November 11, 2011 at 1:12 pm

    I dont care about the HO I wish I was at Thanksgiving dinner when her Aunt died! Now THAT’s my kinda dinner party!

     

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