Don't Ask "How are you?"

I grew up in a small town. And as small towns go, you have your token window peeper (we called ours Nanner Nose) the token black guy (ours was different people throughout the years, but my favorite was the kid who came out of his white momma and was black, and she swore it was her husbands, who was blond haired, fair skinned and blue eyed…but I digress) and we have the token crazy person, whom we called Norma.
Norma is a sweet old lady; I never once saw her drive a car, although I think I would hide in the next county away if I did hear that she was behind the wheel of an automobile. Why you might ask, because she was crazy.
No, Norma walked. She walked and she walked and she walked. She had to be in pretty good shape because she walked so much.
One of my favorite things to do was dive by and honk at her when she was walking on the highway. She would stop and turn and wave, then stare at you with her hands on her hips until you were out of site, probably muttering under her breath about how her hip and her heart aren’t doing as well as they used to.
I don’t know how old Norma is but she’ll probably live forever because of all the cardio she does. She probably was in her 60’s or 70’s when I was growing up. She was definitely a little person. She couldn’t have been more than 4 foot tall. She used to come down to the Deli where I worked a few times during the day. First she would come in and get a Diet Coke, then later in the afternoon she would come in for an ice cream cone. Between each of these trips she would go the seven or so blocks back to her house then walk back up to town for another errand.
She would go to the grocery store then back to her house, go to Gas ‘n Shop, then back to her house, to the bank and back to her house. I would venture she would make the trip 7-10 times a day, rain, snow or shine…
Norma was one of those people; you just didn’t want to get started (if ya know what I mean). Once she started talking she would talk and talk and talk and talk.
I always hoped when she came into the Deli that we were busy or there would at least be one other person in there to distract her from me. Or if you wanted to piss off the person you were working with, go and hide in the bathroom as soon as she came in.
But luckily Norma probably liked to walk more than she liked to talk so she would just continue with the conversation she was having as she walked away from you. The door would be closing behind her as she talked about how her arthritis in her knee was making her pinky toe hurt.
I did learn at a very young age not to ever ask Norma how she was doing. The best thing was to just say “Hi Norma!” if you really wanted to go out on a limb you could say “Crazy weather we’re having huh?” But never ask her how she is doing, or you’ll be standing there listening to a full detailed report about her health, and she’ll cover everything from head to toe…
Good ol Norma, she may have been a little crazy, but definitely hard to forget.