Once A Lady

Yesterday on the subway, I saw it a little old lady – who may or may not have always been a lady – get on and take a seat near me.  She smiled at me as she settled in, and I smiled back, then looked away, as you do.

Also as you do, however, I glanced at her a few more times when she wasn’t looking, just to get a better read on her.  She was distracted by popping open a fresh jar of cashews.

She was dressed in her Sunday best (even though it was Tuesday), including a sweet hat to shield her head from the sun.  Her fingernails were painted with an intricate black and white pattern, while her toenails were more of a bright pink, to closely match the stripes on her her skirt.

The words “Cancer Sucks” were tattooed one the outside of her left wrist.

I decided I might want to be when I grow up.

Maybe without so much pink, though.


I don’t really like the sound of footsteps.

Not sure why, exactly.

As a kid, I’d sometimes wake up from nightmares and still hear footsteps for a few seconds even after waking.

I don’t like people being on stairs behind me, either.  Like, when it’s crowded, as in subway stills and escalators and such, that’s fine.  But I don’t really like someone being too close behind me on a flight of stairs if I’m by myself.

Though I don’t generally like anyone being too close to me anywhere, really.

But yeah, the sound of footsteps, especially if I can’t see the source – kinda creeps me out.

Unless it’s Brody footsteps.  His are cute as all get out.