Tissues, Chocolate and Mothballs
I am a magnet for people who feel the need to have random conversations with a stranger. Tonight I simply went out to get some tissues and chocolate at my nearby CVS. No, I wasn’t planning on crying and eating chocolate. I’ve had the plague or some sort of lingering head cold for a week now and needed more tissues.
The chocolate? Just necessary … plus tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and I do like to have little treats around the house for me, I mean the kidlets.
Running out to the store is never simple. I always get cornered by someone as old as dirt who needs to chat when I’m in a hurry. It’s never a pleasant conversation either. Always something dreadful and graphic.
Old people are great. They talk about their medical conditions as if it’s a breath of fresh air.
Note to self: become a total recluse when I get old as dirt before I end up telling the same stories over and over again to strangers.
Tonight was a real treat. Not only did my new friend have drawn on eye brows that were arched so high that she looked flipping surprised every time I looked at her, she smelled like moth balls. Flashbacks to my sweet grandma’s closet full of coats “for church” and mothballs.
You know, I’ve never had a moth eat any of my coats and I’ve never purchased moth balls. Maybe I’m just lucky.
So, surprised eyebrows tried to catch my attention with a handful of coupons.
“I see you’re looking at chocolate. I have coupons.”
“I’m always looking at chocolate. Thank you, though!”
I tried to walk away and she kept getting closer.
“Look! This one is great. $2 off a 5 pound box of Whitman’s. Good stuff. You should buy some.”
Ugh. I wanted to cry a little. One of my last very long excursions to a store with my Dad several years ago was to buy boxes upon boxes of Whitman’s chocolates. He wanted to buy a box for everyone who helped him at the assisted living center he was in. He was angry because some were wrapped and some weren’t. He also had coupons.
Momentary flashback and eyebrows was still talking.
“You’re coughing. That sounds bad. My husband has the same cough.”
“I hope I didn’t give it to him”
OK, I tried to be funny. It didn’t work. It just made my new friend tell me more.
“No, no. You didn’t give it to him, dear. He had a colonoscopy last month and it’s been terrible ever since. He caught a cold and now it’s in his chest. He coughs all night.”
Now I had to join the conversation. I felt terrible that I joked around and her husband was sick.
“Did he see his doctor?”
DAMMIT. Bad question.
“Yes, he has a lovely doctor. He gave him some Robitussin for the cough. It’s just that he gets so much gas from it. I don’t like when he has gas from the medicine. He always gets that.”
(WHY didn’t I go out earlier in the day?)
“That’s terrible. Well, thank you for the coupon. I actually needed five pounds of Whitman chocolates. You have a great night.”
“Did you see? They are on sale! $3.99 for the box. You’re getting a steal!”
(No, I’m going to gain 40 pounds)
“That’s quite a bargain. Thanks again. Drive carefully.”
“Oh, I hate driving. But now that my husband is sick with the cough I have to go out for him. Do you know what is best for gas?”
(I’ve definitely been a horrible person at some point in my life and this is payback)
“Not sure. Maybe ask the pharmacist. He’s right in the back of the store.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea. I appreciate it. You were really nice to talk to me. You know, sometimes it’s just that there’s no one to talk to.”
“Anytime.”
Ugh. I didn’t really mean ‘anytime’ but I thought how that will likely be me one day. Alone in a store trying to find some Gas-X or something because my insides are starting to do the break down hoe-down that comes with age. I’ll probably talk to someone who really doesn’t want to hear it because all of my kids are grown and Twitter doesn’t exist anymore.
Crap. That’s just stressful to think about. Good thing I bought the chocolate — with the coupon.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Overly Arched Eyebrows. I hope your husband stops coughing and his gas subsides soon.
Elderly folk here in the south DO love to chat you up at the local grocery, CVS or Walgreens. Best time to hit them up are the 24 hour stores and when most older folk have long been in bed along with the chickens! Lord knows they wake up with them!
I can see me rambling on and on in a store when I'm older…..it is sad…..so I try to give them the time to chat a few no matter how busy I am cause I may be the only—or last person they( remember that day) talking to them and hopefully I put a smile on their faces.
It's nice when they remind us of family…….kinda nice to have the memories now to remember those whom have passed away and knowing they are forever in or hearts.
Let's hope you don't draw on Joan Crawford eye brows later in life, but at least if you do you can always looked surpised, like it's your birthday!!
Sorry I'm late, but I can so relate to this! Reminds me of my mom and grandmom – chocolate and mothballs! Plus grandmom always liked those little hard candies that came in a tin. The candies were shaped like fruit.
So many elderly are lonely and their world becomes so small.
Perfect time to metion my (second) favorite tweeter: shitmydadsays
If you like honest old people you NEED to see this twitter page!
Oh my – this happens to me all the time too!
You are not special. You are not a magnet any more than anyone else. You are just there. Talk about needing to talk to strangers! Isn't that exactly what you are doing with your blog? You, yourself have some compulsion to tell your intimate thoughts to strangers! People used to write in journals and hide them under their bed. Now they splash every banal thought across the internet. What is that all about? Reality TV wanna be's? How ironic is it that you didn't want to hear what SHE had to say. Too bad she didn't have her own blog or twitter. It seems to me that the least a human being can do for another human being is to listen. It doesn't take intelligence or special skill, just a little of your time. A dog can do it. I won't say to you that it will be you one day. You don't have to wait until "someday". In your case, it already IS you! You have a compulsion to tell strangers in detail about your life! You ARE her! She is YOU! How ironic! What you do with your blog and twitter is the same but without the personal contact. You don't see it and that is what is funny to me.
Cheryl,
You’ve got to stop wearing that “Talk to Me” target on your back. Speaking of Target, don’t ever wear a red shirt and khakis when shopping there. You’ll get more than your share of talkers. Thanks for making an encounter that sounded “painful”, into an experience that had me laughing out loud in the office. I try to only share “ailments” with family & close friends. They’re much more forgiving.
LOL, I absolutely love your posts! If we lived in RI, my Mom would be a stranger that strikes up a convo with you. Although she's not at the 'old age' stage, she's from the south and that's what southerners do. We strike up conversations with random people. That's how we roll
It seems like elderly people always want to talk to you when you are in a hurry. But they just really need to talk to someone because life isn't as exciting as it used to be. I think about it when I get stopped and give that person some time because one day it will be me. Then I think of my Grandma who probably does the same thing and I hope that the person she is speaking to is speaking back. Getting old is a real pain in the ass isn't it?
I work in a hotel and in the evening when everyone is out to dinner, being at the front desk makes me a sitting target for lonely guests – I know more about more peoples kids, marriages, divorces and diseases than I ever thought possible. I see it as part of my job to be patient and chat if I have the time and I do meet lots of lovely people but man, oh, man, please stop them telling me about their latest surgery, horrible neighbors, and worst of all the bowel movements inflicted on them by too many days of vacation food!! I love the entertainment value though and I always have a funny story when I get home!
Great story! I helped an old lady find a can of mushrooms at the store last week and she was embarrassed they were right in front of her at eye-level. Her husband reminds me of what my mom said she talks about with her friends – how their husbands make annoying “old man noises”!
Susan–I truly love old people so much. They are so blatantly honest like children. Both of my parents have passed away so it's sort of bittersweet at times. It seems that I always have some odd conversation or another with someone elderly…most of the time I'm not in rush, so I stay and talk. It's always humorous, though.
Thank you dear. My real name is Mildred Olenchamp. Thank you for letting me visit tonight. I hope I wasn’t A bother. I’m so glad the coupon was helpful and please do care for that cough.
Thank you
lol