“Did you see 2012?” The Fed-Ex employee with the slick Marcelled hair said, while she shifted from one large foot onto the other. Her enormous boobs were standing at unavoidable attention thrusting her name tag into the empty space above me. In the shadow of them hovering there I read the tag. Her name was Lisa.
“No Lisa, and I don’t want to. There’s enough bad stuff happening here in 2009.” I looked her in the eyes. She looked away and punched some keys on that computer thing they carry like a ball and chain.
“You know that Nostram-o-dammus guy? I saw a television show...” I feel my eyeballs roll back in my head (for the first time; it would happen again later on that night while on a phone call). I love how she mangled Nostradomus’ name while trying to impart the knowledge she gleaned as she tried to rope it and me into a conversation, “...all of the things he predicated are coming true, and after the one of 2012 didja know he just stopped writing predictions?” The air was thick with thought and mangled words.
“I think he died.” I threw out there, hoping this would end it.
“I don’t think so, besides, you know about the Mayan Calendar?” She turned away to talk to the jeweler. And so once again my visit to the jeweler had mined more unnecessary information...and this time only slightly more disturbing. I could hear Skeeter Davis singing...
“Yeah, I hear it didn’t go further than 2012 either.”
Lisa turned back to me, “So what do you do?”
A little mental whiplash was in order, I mean going from the total destruction of the earth to her sudden interest in what I do. “I’m a writer.” I sighed.
“Do you know....um-m-m...what is his name? Um-m-m, he is on my route.” I can smell the smoke coming from her brain. She might as well have spit out his address...another moment of lag time and I would have asked her for it just so we could Google Map it on my iPhone. I hope I am never so successful that the Fed Ex or UPS guy (or gal) is out trying to ask everyone who is in whatever similar business if they know me.
“Nope. I don’t know any other writers, especially ones who get overnighted scripts.” True. Well, I know a few who used to write scripts, and I’ve even had a few delivered to my place by messenger, but never by anyone half as interesting as Lisa.
“Well, what are you doing here?” She asked as she inspected a ring she was picking up for repair.
“Uh...” What the hell was I doing there anyway? “I’m dropping off some rings to be sized before I go on vacation.” Oh crap, why did I tell her that?
“Where you goin’?” She had a direct glare that made me slightly uncomfortable. I noticed my jeweler wasn’t saying much, he just polished a chain.
“On a cruise.”
“Oh man, I’d hate to be on a cruise ship when a big earthquake would hit. I bet the ship would list from the huge waves and water would come pouring into my room and I’d drown.” No you wouldn’t, not with those Mae West boobs.
“Oh I think you would have time to get into a lifeboat.” I lied.
“Ya think? I mean it would prolly fill up real fast. Once I was on a cruise to Alaska and a big wave came crashing through, broke some windows and I was scared to death.” Her eyes bugged out at the mere recall.
“Gee, I think so.” I could just picture her floating up as her room filled with water, legs kicking, yelling and unable to think at all. Yep, clearly she would not make it as a lifeboat captain.
“But I doubt I could get the door open.”
Well...I could see I wouldn’t win this round. “Yeah, I think you are right...probably wouldn’t get the door open. Have you made your will out yet?”
About this time the jeweler had finished his work for her and I was, coincidently, now bored, having enough gloom and doom chat to last me a lifetime. She packed up her little white box with the newly polished new chain and punched some more numbers into the computer and wished me well as the shadow of her darkness left the shop. She was still trying to think of the name of that writer. I know because she was muttering just under her breath. “Steven...no...dang it....” the door clicked as it locked her out. Thank God for the security system.
I looked at the jeweler questioningly....”Lisa sure can talk your ear off...” he said, “...I can never get her to shut up.” I just looked at him and decided he would no longer be my jeweler.
“I need to go, will you call me when the rings are sized? Bye.” A tidal wave of relief was pushing me out into the bright sunlit day. Yep, there is definitely a reason I no longer do retail. I laugh at Black Friday!