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Crazy Old Lady before/after Things were going fine until the topic of religion came up. She was the sweetest little old lady, in my shop. I had been trying to tell her that with her visual problems, she wasn't going to be able to see like she used to be able to see. She wasn't having it, though, and she wanted me to do SOMETHING. ANYTHING. But there wasn't anything to be done. "What do you want me to do, JoAnne?" "I want you to LOVE me, Jay!" she replied perkily. It was cute. "Do you think I look too skinny?" she asked me. She didn't look too skinny, of course. She's 77, and maybe looks a little older, but a lifetime of smoking and drinking does that to a body. For the mileage, she looked good for her age. Some people fall totally apart. "No, not at all." I replied, "I mean, you're not carrying any extra weight...but you look ok." "My daughter says I'm too skinny. That there's something wrong with me." "Naw, you look fine. You don't look sick to me." "How much do you think I weigh." Truthfully, after wrestling a few years, I can pretty much guess anybody's weight almost on a dime. Give me a grace of five pounds and I'm right every time. Of course, after years of women asking me this very question I've learned to lie. In this instance, there was no need. It was a gramma. "I'd say you weigh anywhere from 96 to 105 pounds." I said matter-of-factly. She beamed. "I've weighed that my whole life." she said. "Why does your daughter think there's something wrong with you?" I asked. "My son-in-law prophesied over me and said I'd be dead in a year." Excuse me? "Dead in a year." she repeated. She looked forlorn and lost. "Really." I said, which is generally a filler while I'm trying to sort for something appropriate to say.' "YES. And I'm just worried sick." What sick, twisted son-of-a-bitch is going to tell a 77 year old woman that she's going to die in a year? Seriously...I mean, sure, its statistically likely and everything, but...really? What do you have to gain by scaring the shit out of Auntie Em? Got designs on her house? Just wait awhile... Of course, he has to be white trash...and some of the worst kind. They come in two flavors: the urban emulating white trash and the bible-thumping-just-found-the-light-of-Jesus-and-he-talks-to-me white trash. I'm guessing he was the latter. They vote republican and breed like rabbits. And apparently love to scare old ladies witless. All with a sub-sixth grade reading level. Fuck man, I don't care who you are or what you know, just try not to be a fucking asshole to people for no reason and we're cool. Just try to be good. Don't scare old ladies for no reason. Shock them? Sure. Make them shake their heads in disgust and spit on the ground as you walk by? If that's your thing, why not. But to make them fear for their life? Low hanging fruit, buddy. Now I'm left wondering why nobody comes to prophesy over me? I'd love the shit out of that. Is this the last year of my life? Ok. Don't care. Your religion sucks and is full of shit, btw. God would never want you to scare old ladies like that, even if it was true. I have to imagine if God was talking to someone, a prophet say (and I lean towards believing the crazy people in the streets are modern day prophets on my more loony days...all stemming from the time I heard a homeless shouting at himself on the street and it seemed like someone was asking him to intervene on our behalf to save us from destruction. Who knows. Who am I to judge. I've got my hands full keeping myself tied down.) he wouldn't say anything like that. But to imagine that God would talk to you and tell you to scare the shit out of an old dingbat is a road too low, as they say. He'd probably say something like, "Look, buddy, this old broad only has a year left on her contract, then her expiration date is up...BUT DONT TELL HER. ITLL ONLY RUIN IT FOR HER." Fuckin' people and their hokey fucking religions. Believe what you want to believe. Worship the sun, moon, and stars for all I care. Just leave other people out of your bullshit, ok? We don't have to believe your crap. We can find our own spirituality and our own way, ok? In the meantime, fuck off, get a job, and you can't have grandma's house. Anyway, she was terrified, and I did the best I could to console her and her qualms. I gave her a hug before she walked out the door and she seemed mollified. Of course, I see her tomorrow. So we'll see what happens. Yeah...this was right up there with the guy who I fixed his glasses...older gentleman in his sixties who's glasses I fixed....not even a regular patient, and I asked him if he went to St. Maartens. "Yeah, I wouldn't go back, though. There was such a divide between the haves and the have-nots...I didnt like it." "Oh, ok." And he stepped to the door, he turned and fired a parting shot: "BUT I DID GO TO THE NUDE BEACH, THOUGH!!" "WELL, AS LONG AS YOU ENJOYED YOURSELF!" I called after him as he fled. Seriously, if there's one nut job in the crowd, that person will always single me out. Like moths to a burning flame, I am magnetic. And they lay their fantastic trip upon me. I don't mind. I like that people are comfortable enough with me to tell me things. Maybe its something about me,i don't know, but I don't betray secrets. Well, except this guys. But this wasn't a secret. My secretary was there, too. And he kinda' blurted it out at us. Whatever. I don't judge. People are people. Fuck it, just love yourself, your friends, and be comfortable in your own skin.
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