I’m in love.
True, I’ve said this before, but this time its the real deal.
She’s a force of nature, this one.
She’s also somewhere past the age of 80.
I pulled into Starbucks parking lot and saw an old woman screeching at cars.
Homeless? Not sure. Bat shit crazy, absolutely.
I parked and watched as she made her way towards Starbucks.
She was awesome, this kind of crazy is rare.
She was furious, at all times, walking along and muttering in anger at everything she passed.
People, chairs, small dogs, everybody got a snarl and muttered curse word from her.
I have named her Mona, for Mona Lisa, the woman of many sides.
Into Starbucks we go. (Or down the rabbit hole, take your pick.)
The line was about medium, 4-5 people.
The fun began rather quickly. (I would feel bad for enjoying all of this, but I came to peace with this a long time ago.)
“Wipe you’re goddam feet!” Was hissed at a man in an impeccable business suit coming thru the door. He looked confused and backed out.
Mona runs a tight ship.
“Don’t take all day!” This was directed in the general direction of the cashier. It caused a bunch of fluttering activity around the register but didn’t speed things up.
Mona has little patience for wasted time.
“What’s so funny?!?!” She was pissed now. This was directed at me when I laughed. I really couldn’t help myself.
Mona is my soulmate, I swear.
I made no large movements, just backed away. I didn’t say anything. Nothing catches crazy’s attention like a response.
She kept it together long enough to order a grande house drip.
It took a full minute to order because Mona kept asking the cashier to repeat her order back to her, before she had ordered anything.
For the life of me, I cannot figure out if she is crazy AND homeless, or just crazy.
Either way, she’s awesome. Its not often a human being transcends being a normal person and becomes a force of nature, something to be reckoned with and in some/most instances, feared.
And this little honey is loaded for bear.
She stomped her aged little butt over to the pick up window and planted her Witchee-poo (Google it) shoes in the space that people hurriedly made for her.
She got her coffee, shuffled over to the cream and sugar kiosk, which just happened to be deserted during prime time (HA), Then made her way to the door.
It was here that she took her already powerful, bat-shit crazy routine and knocked it out of the park.
“This music is shit!” Loudly at no one in particular. (Wait for it…)
“Get the hell out of here!” Some sane old guy said to her, not yelling, but firmly loud. (Wait for it………)
“BAAAAAA!!!” Shaking her fist at all of us, like some sort of old world granny curse. I shit you not.
Much like remembering where you were when Kennedy was shot, I will remember this day and that force of nature in support hose and comfortable shoes till the day I die.