Wobbling Loretta

A woman named Loretta has been ordering take-out from the restaurant for many, many years. She speaks very little English, but manages to bark out yes and no when the situation calls for it. A dour Persian woman, she is probably taking a dangerous combination of powerful medications that her lawyer, her husband, and plastic surgeon have yet to corroborate.

Loretta has a habit of rocking back and forth while waiting at the to go counter. Not a charming, Stevie-Wonder-when-he-sings type of rocking, but rather, a pendulous shifting-of-her-weight from one foot to the other. In public. She's often caught my eye, and I always marvel that none of the onlookers react to this freakshow. Is everyone afraid to tell Loretta just out how annoying her behavior is? Maybe she needs a glass of water? A seat? An inner ear canal flush? Nobody stops to ask her because nobody cares. They all want her out of sight as quickly as possible.

But tonight, I was delivering some dressing on the side and had to walk past. I was carrying a small tray of three ramekins filled with a very savory balsamic vinaigrette that went South just as Loretta kicked up her heels. She barrelled into me with a brute force I wasn't expecting, and all the ramekins went bouncing onto the floor. She eventually landed on her ass just as one of the ramekins flipped at an angle which splashed all the salad dressing up her skirt. I was a little freaked out because I really didn't know what had hit me, but when I locked eyes with her for a brief moment, the look on her face was unmistakeable. I knew her vagina had been bathed in salad dressing and I'm sure it was stinging. Badly.

I think people are starting to think I'm bringing situations like this onto myself, but I apologized to Loretta and gave her one of those redi-quick ice packs from the first aid kit as we were being interviewed for the accident report. Maybe I need Kaballah or Dianetics. I feel like such an outsider sometimes.