Merciful Urban Youth, Candy Corn and Percocet

I cried in public for the first time today. Didn't mean to, didn't want to. The tears just came.
Even the gang-bangers gathered in the parking let me pass quietly.
People leave you alone when they think you are a crazy person.

A long time ago - seemingly another lifetime - I had 50 fewer pounds, nearly 20 fewer years, a short skirt, high heels and flowing strawberry curls... Anywho, I was passing the Nankin after a few late night refreshments and some urban youth thought they might like to have my briefcase.

I looked the biggest of the young men squarely in the eye and told him it was haunted. It was odd how quickly they scurried away after I hurled my beautiful case to the sidewalk about ten feet ahead of me started yelling "HEY! YOU BIT ME!" interspersed with random Norwegian swear words. Something about how we had talked about proper behavior in public, more Norwegian, etc... Kicking the poor thing against the wall a dozen or so times added to the effect. (Luckily, those were the days before laptops.) When I turned away they were chatting amongst themselves about the " _____ crazy white lady." I picked up my case and muttered loudly in Norwegian all the way to the ramp.

This time, the drama was nil, and consisted merely of staring straight ahead with tears streaming down my face. Not outright sobbing, just a simple overflow of mind-shattering pain. One of the young men actually looked like he felt sorry for me, and nodded a sign of respect. I half-smiled and he let me pass, purse, cane and tears intact.

I hobbled slowly into CVS. Candy corn and percocet, the dinner of champions. As you can probably tell by my super coherent writing (not), the percs are doing their job, and this batch of candy corn is the best I have ever had.

We adapt to whatever our 'normal' is at the time. Plus, I'm guessing the 'normal' CVS at Snelling & University ... well, I doubt they even noticed.