Yesterday was a big rainy, drizzly mess here in the City of Roses, weather I assume is similar to what we'll be experiencing all winter long. But whilst waiting at the bus stop, a human ray of sunshine wearing a black tank top that said "Stop bitching/Start a revolution," a blue plaid skirt and a red pom pom in her ponytail came hurtling toward me.
"What is this thing?" she demanded, indicating the POD's bulb. "It looks like something you see in a grocery store. An eggplant... no... a kiwi... no..."
"A starfruit?" I offered.
"Yeah! Are you supposed to peel those things or what?"
"I think you slice it," I said.
"My, what a beautiful skirt," she said, indicating the long, maroon-purple-orange-yellow delight my uncle had purchased for me because he thought the girl in the catalog was my spitting image. "Twirl! Twirl!"
I twirled. She joined me.
"What are you reading there? Oh! Anna Karenina," she said, using her best Russian accent to say the heroine's name. "You're brave for reading that book. I won't ruin it for you. You know, I had an affair. My husband knew about it, but the guy wouldn't marry me. Next you should read Muh-dahm Bohv-ree by Goos-tahv Flo-bare. And then Wuthering Heights. You've seen West Side Story? This is Natalie Wood: 'Don't you DARE touch him! [kiss kiss kiss]'"
I applauded. She curtseyed.
"Thank you very much. My name is Kathryn Ann Sampson*."
And she raced off accross the street.
*As soon as she left I scribbled our entire conversation on the back of an envelope. The one thing I couldn't remember was her name, though... Curses.