NANOWRIMO Day 8

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Three Old Friends

“I think I’ll just take a strawberry one dear.” Said her friend to her left.

“Get me a mango fruit fizzy thing too.” Said the third older lady, a little too loudly.

“Ok! I said, making sure to slow down the recitation back to them, I didn’t want three old ladies saying that I had mis-ordered their stuff because they didn’t understand what I had said. “That’s a strawbery-kiwi Fruit Fizzer for you,” I said to the first lady. “A strawberry Fruit Fizzer for you, and a mango Fruit Fizzer for you. Can I get you ladies an appetizer to tide you over until your meal gets here? Maybe a plate of spinach artichoke dip?”

“Well Hell,” Said the first lady. “Ain’t everyday you turn ninety five. And it is spinach, that is good for you. I’ll take one of those on my bill.” She said, slapping the table with her hand. She sure looked young for ninety five.

“Is it your birthday?” I asked her, thinking a spunky thing like her probably was proud of her years, not shy of answering such a taboo question in the world of women.

“Me? Hell no! It’s NormaJean’s birthday there!” She said, laughing. I am barely brushing eighty.
Well, that made more sense. When she gestured to NormaJean, it was the one that spoke loudly when ordering the mango fruit fizzy thing. She looked like she could be ninety five at least. She still had life in her, yes, and I had no doubts that about fifteen years ago she was as lively as the first lady. But age was catching up to her now. Apparently, her hearing was weakening, and her movements slower than her counterparts. “Well congratulations.” I said, speaking just a tad bit louder than I had been. I didn’t want to make the old lady feel like I thought her hearing was bad, but I wanted her to hear me too.”

“That’s alright young lady.” She said, still in a loud volume. “I can hear you and my friend and sister here quite well, I just have problems hearing my voice as it’s not directed toward me. I like to know what I’m meaning to say is coming out of my mouth. After spending so many years with it, you learn your mouth has a mind of it’s own and don’t mind betraying you at all.” She laughed. “It’s nice to know some of the young still have some decency regarding us oldsters.” She said, laughing heartedly.

I was relieved to hear her hearing was fine, and I went off to place the order for their drinks and the spinach artichoke dip. I felt mildly guilty of up-selling them on both the drinks and the appetizer. Still, if I had one of the lowest pay-out sections I was going to pull out whatever I could to make sure that coming here was worth my time. And the old ladies didn’t seem to mind. They seemed like they had extra money that they just really didn’t have a thing to do with. After I had keyed the order in I went over to the bar to collect my Fruit Fizzers, and keyed in a refill of those same drinks to fire off in three minutes time, in case I forgot.

“Here you go.” I said when I went back to the table, smiling widely. “Your Strawberry Kiwi, Your strawberry, and your mango.” I said, handing them out to each of the ladies. “I got your order for the spinach artichoke dip put in and it should be out in just a few minutes. Are we ready to order?”

“Not quite yet dear.” The one with the strawberry Fruit Fizzer said to me. “How about we’ll give you our order when we get the spinach artichoke. We’re old, and with age comes patience. A few extra minutes till our food gets here won’t hurt us.”

That all seemed well to me. “Ok then, I’ll be by with spinach artichoke dip shortly.” I said walking back behind the front counter and proceeding to fold more silverware. Instead of zoning off, getting lost in the repetitiveness of the task, I watched the old ladies at my four-top conversing with each other.

From where I stood, their gestures reminded me of new mothers getting together, or else a bride with her bridesmaids. It was when you looked at their heads that you got a hint of their age. I still didn’t know the strawberry fizzer lady’s age, but I guessed those years had been hard on her, however old she was. She had lost her parents, that was a given at her age, but perhaps she’d lost even more. A child. Children. A spouse. Whatever had happened in the old ladies life, she kept living through it. I had no doubt that without the other two, it would have been unlikely that the strawberry fizzer lady would be here today.

And the other old lady, the one turning ninety five. What must that be like? Does she expect to make it to one hundred. I certainly thought that if she did she was in the wrong place. Aren’t you supposed to eat fruits and vegetables and stay away from grease if you want to make it to your hundredth year? It appeared like the old lady wasn’t concerned with that though. I supposed that she wouldn’t like dying tomorrow, but if it happened she’d accept it and be glad for the ninety five years that she did have. I secretly hoped that, were I to be lucky enough to make it to that age, that I could have a similar outlook on life. I hoped I wouldn’t let the years of living harden me, or take the joy out of my life as such appeared to have happened to the strawberry fizzer lady.

“Marti, your food is up!” The expo guy called to me.
“Thanks.” I said, putting down my silverware I was working on and reaching for the spinach artichoke dip. I took it out to the table, and the trio of old women quit talking for about a minute, each diving into the spinach and artichoke dip with a gusto that almost made me want to laugh. “Everything good?” I asked.
It was the 80ish year old lady who answered. “This is wonderful! Things like this helps make food not boring.”
I wasn’t in my 80’s or 90’s, but I still understood the thought. Food, more often than not, wasn’t fun. It was something that your body forced you to partake it or else cause you unnecessary pain. It was so old. Eating new things were fun, but usually eating just meant repeating one of a few basic meals in a random order so that you didn’t feel as though you were eating the same thing all the time, even though you most likely were.
The old ladies were back to talking among themselves, so I left to get their drink refills.
“Dang Marti, you doing ok? Usually you are here when I finish making the drinks. These have just been sitting here and I was starting to think I’d have to scrap them.” The bartender, Brandy, said to me when I picked up the three glasses and sat them on my tray. “You’ll want to tell them to give those all a good stirring.”
“I’m fine. I just got this table of old ladies. They are fascinating me.” I said. Brandy just laughed at me, as though she thought I was being sarcastic. I decided she wasn’t going to say anything and walked back to where the old ladies were seated.
“Here’s refills for you.” I said, passing out the refills to each of the older ladies. “Make sure and give them a good stir before drinking.” I instructed, as Brandy had warned me to. “Are we ready to order now?”
“Oh, yes dear.” The one with the strawberry fizzer said. “I’ll take on of those sizzling asian shrimp entrees.”
“I want one of them gorgeous baby back ribs. With southern barbecue.” The 80-or-so lady said as I turned to her.
“And get me the Spicy shrimp diavolo.” Said the birthday lady.
I repeated back their orders, simple as there were no modifications to be met. The three nodded their heads at me and I left to key in the food. I then went back to my folding silverware and watching the old ladies. I just couldn’t get over their apparent zeal of life, even the one I assumed had been hit hard in life seemed to exude with the zeal of the here and now. She enjoyed the time she had with her friends. She probably went home alone, and at night the memories of whatever had hit her come back, but at the moment all that mattered to her, or so it seemed to me from observation, was where she was at the moment and who she was with.
I kept folding silverware, still watching the three with fascination.

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