old-lady-cat

It's always given me great pleasure to randomly help someone out, then run off into the sunset with them standing there shouting, "Your name! What's your name?!"

Like this one time I was standing in line at our local Goodwill. I frequent this particular store because they're ignorant to the true value of things. You'll see something you KNOW is from the Dollar Tree and they'll have $25 on it. Then you'll see a vintage Fiesta pitcher and it'll say $1. Actually there were three Fiesta pitchers. I snatched them up like an orphan snatching up some rice. For you see….these things are worth at least $200 a piece.

I casually took my place in line and shortly after, a little old lady came behind me. She reeked of pee-pee. Not person pee-pee….feline pee-pee. Naturally, I had to see…I just had to know. So I turned around and did one of those exaggerated pull-backs. I mean, this woman needed a public service announcement! She was mangled from the rooter to the tooter. It looked to me like cat scratches.

As I inched my way up in line, she came up closer. Oh great. A close-talker. I don't like a close-talker. They unnerve me and make me want to suck my thumb. At any rate, she leaned forward and whispered in my ear:

"You know those things are worth a lot of money, right?"

Trashy old woman! About to blow my cover!

"Yes, woman….yes. I know this. Shhhhh."

She nodded enthusiastically…like we were partners in some type of caper. So as we're standing there, she begins talking. At first, she rambled about her dead husband who left her with nothing but a demon-possessed cat. Then she went into a tirade about the cat's lack of good sense and how she daily thought of ways to end its life. Hey! I was starting to dig this old woman!

I was almost up to the cashier when the woman gently reached out and touched my arm. I saw a tear drip off her chin and became alarmed. That maybe all this death and cat talk had sent her right over the edge. But she debunked that theory when she said:

"Thank you so much for talking with me. I rarely am able to talk to anyone besides the cat."

I wanted to cry now too. I'm a sucker for lonely old people. As I was paying for my pitchers, I looked to see what the old woman was purchasing. I didn't see anything. Not a cart. No basket. Nothing in her scratched up arms. As I started to walk towards the front door, I stopped. I turned. I pulled out my fave pitcher…the red one….and handed it to her.

"Here. You can have this."

Then I ran out of there before my selfishness kicked in and I snatched it back. But as I sat in my car, I didn't feel a sense of loss. I felt a sense of goodness. Like I'd just gotten an A in Bible class.

I often think of Pee Pee and wonder what she's up to these days. But I don't linger on these thoughts because for some reason they always end up with her cat peeing in my vintage….HER vintage Fiesta pitcher.

I just hope I wasn't swindled by an old lady and her cat.  This would displease me.