I enjoyed some quiet time by myself at the food court in the mall. Just me, my Mediterranean salad, and a little old Japanese woman. Yes, you read it correctly--I ate a salad.
I promised myself to just sit still for a bit. (What? An unstructured activity? But what should I do?) So, I sat there alone in my thoughts: Should I have stayed home and used this time to nap like my husband and son?"...but I was interrupted by a little old Japanese woman.
"You look lonely," she said. "Ok, I will sit with you." I looked lonely? Had I subliminally asked her to sit with me? She responded as if I had asked her to. Was looking lonely synonymous with looking homely? What did she mean?
So, she decided to sit across from me, at the table I specifically chose farthest from the other tables. There must have been at least fifteen empty tables around us. I counted ten before she interrupted me. I wasn't sure what she was saying, but I smiled and nodded "yes." She was a sweet old lonely lady with a dark wooden cane in one hand. Her hair was dyed jet black and appeared as if she had it recently curled and styled (or she slept standing up.) You could tell by the lines on her face that she had seen many good years. You could also see sadness in her eyes, but she continuously giggled as she spoke, so I joined in and giggled with her. I don't know what we were giggling about, but when I realized what she said, I stopped giggling.
"Me silly woman. Too old to eat my food. It's falling everywhere." I didn't know how to respond, so I just focused on my food.
"Now, where was that Kalamata olive they placed on top of my salad?" I was determined to find it. Had I not been paying attention and swallowed it whole, pit and all? Just then, a tehina-covered lettuce leaf got stuck in my throat.
"Lady, you ok," she either asked or stated, I wasn't sure. I decided the latter and of course just nodded and smiled.
Our conversation continued. She made small talk. She told me she was from Pasadena originally, somehow her accent made me feel she wasn't telling me the whole truth. Then she said, "Mall not busy for a Saturday, huh ok." (Again not sure if this was a question or statement by the infliction in her voice.)
I replied, "No." (I'm not very good at making small talk.)
"You write lots. You have nice day," she said, as she got up to leave.
"You too," I replied overly ecstatic. I found my Kalamata olive, it had rolled under my plate.
