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 "It's all about chaaange, maaan. Chaaange. We gotta vooote, maaaan." I stared, wide-eyed at the woman who had suddenly turned around and started talking to me. I whirled around, thinking there was someone else there but no, it was just me. She kept staring at me and saying, "Chaaaaange, maaan. We gotta chaaange." She looked rather elegant: long, black winter coat with a pleasant green scarf to match. She wore nice black boots and carried a large black leather purse. But when she spoke, she sounded like a hippie from the 60's. As in, make love not war, maaan. I didn't know what to say. I kept hoping that someone, anyone, would walk past us and hear her like I heard her, but no one did. I wanted to wave my arms around and go, "IS ANYONE HEARING OR SEEING THIS?!!" Eventually she stopped once the form she was waiting for came. But right before she went about her business, she glanced back at me and murmured, "Chaaaange, maaan." No TrackBacksTrackBack URL: http://www.toastier.org/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/180 |
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Hi, my name is Amy. Be well, and say hello!
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i find it amusing that your last entry ended with something about change and then you run into this lady.
i wish i ran into more strange people...
I know, right? Such little coincidences.