I met the coolest person in the supermarket today.
Her name is Bobbie, and she’s 82. She was there with her husband, and I started talking to her. She asked me about my height.
“How tall are you? 5′9?”
“Yeah around there.”
“Oh I was too, at your age. I used to walk all slumped over like this. (she slumped over and decreased her height significantly) I would always walk like that because I was ashamed of my height.”
“I do that too.”
“Well don’t. One day I just said, ‘Pshh with that.’ I put on high heels, pushed back my shoulders, and walked so that they could see me. I wasn’t bad looking then either, don’t look at what 82 years have done. Ravaged me.”
(my mom said this) “Well Al (her husband) seemed to approve.”
“He did. He asked me to marry him on the first date. He’d known me for fifteen minutes. You know what I said? ‘You’re nuts!’ “
We kept talking to her, and she told me that when she was young you could die from Strep throat, and she was allergic, deathly, to the regular medicine for it. But the doctors went to her parents and said that there was a new medicine that they hadn’t tried much yet, but that might work.
“Do you know what that medicine was? Guess.”
I love meeting new people. I’m probably going to visit them soon and help out with whatever they need.