Wednesday, February 26, 2014
I work in an area that is mostly retired seniors. A lot of them are snow birds, here for the winter. I love old people. Especially old men. They flirt outrageously. Some of them are cranky. I have a way with them. I think it is because I was raised around people of all ages. I remember when I was younger some of my contemporaries couldn't understand how I could "hang out" with elderly folks. They are so full of wonderful experiences. Yesterday one of my favorite customers came in. She is 89. She still drives. She is amazing. She is also cranky and rather mean. To everyone, except me. She loves me. Her name is Frances. We had an immediate connection. She is lonely, though. Her family is one son who lives on the other side of the country. Her daughter passed away. Her husband passed a few years ago. We talked for quite a while. I told her about my momma. I told her how we would have coffee and cookies. She said she liked cookies. She has a house full of antiques! Her son is not a fan of them. I told her about some of the things I have from momma. She invited me to come see her furniture. I am going. We are going to have coffee and cookies. She is cranky, her name is Frances and she thinks I am wonderful. I am keeping her.