In which I scare an old woman while she admires her groceries

I haven’t posted anything in awhile (which doesn’t matter much since the only person who reads this is my mom, but still) so there are a lot of things I could talk about right now.

I initially thought I would talk about my horrible day and how I get to spend the next five days on jury duty. But then I realized just how much I talk about my horrible days lately; how much time I spend complaining and moaning and proclaiming that I am going to burn the world down (an impractical but at times satisfying thought).

So instead of all that negativity, I am going to talk about something amazing. Something that managed to shake me out of my misery and make me smile.

I am speaking, of course, of Old Woman Spaghetti Reader (OWSR for short). Some context is needed I suppose. As I was riding home on the MAX today, lovingly cradling the whip-creamy remnants of my magical headache curing beverage, an old woman got on the train, wheeling in front of her a small cart filled with reusable grocery bags.

I glanced over as she took the seat next to me, and watched covertly as she pulled out a box of Whole Wheat Thin Spaghetti. And began to read.

Not glance; this was not a glance, not a casual once-over of her newly purchased pasta. She was engrossed in it as if it were her favorite novel. It was completely beautiful.

Now as anyone who has ever ridden public transportation knows, they tend to house a lot of strange people/things. So maybe a pasta-reading old woman doesn’t strike you as very interesting. But to me, at that moment, it was so mundanely absurd I couldn’t get enough. Of course, this all probably played out differently to OWSR.

My Thoughts: Oh my God, why is that lady reading that spaghetti? ALL OF THE FUNNY!

OWSR: Yes, lovely, I shall sit and leisurely examine my wonderful new pasta. Now that Mr. Jingles has passed on I can afford food for myself instead of sharing his Meow Mix.

Me: Ok, ok, she put it away. Calm down. Continue listening to music. *Commence lip synching, rock out* CHEESUS CRACKERS SHE JUST PULLED IT OUT AGAIN! What didn’t you see the first time old lady? What further secrets could you be decoding from that box?

OWSR: Oh gracious, the young lady beside me looks a bit manic, why does she keep furtively glancing at me and mouthing silent words? Is she having some kind of fit? Best to keep still so as not to provoke her…

Me: YOU HAVE OTHER GROCERIES! WHY AREN’T THEY GOOD ENOUGH TO READ TOO?

OWSR: …My my, oh goodness, she is definitely still looking at me. Stay calm, Estelle, you’re a strong independent lady. Just casually exit the train at the next stop.

 Me: Aw, she’s getting off at this stop. Wait, what just…HA! The wheel of her little cart-y thing just got stuck in the wheel of that stroller! No way old lady, that mother is not going to help you at all, yessss, struggle to awkwardly remove yourself before the doors close!

OWSR: Mr. Jingles watch over me, I’m trapped! Must escape lunatic girl who seems to have a strange attachment to that near-empty coffee cup!

Me: Caffeine-y goodness, you are a magical headache curing elixir! *Cuddles with cup* Bye weirdo old lady!!!

OWSR: *Runs away and never buys pasta or takes public transport again*

Hmm. I think my point got away from me a little in that reimagining, but I think what I was getting at is that no matter how bad you feel, how depressed or annoyed or angry you are feeling, there will always be tiny, wonderful things to pick you right up again as long as you are willing to see them.

I love you, Old Woman Spaghetti Reader.