It's wicked to mock the afflicted

Pudding lady was in top form today. She got on the bus trailing her tartan grocery cart and harangued the bus driver about his route. She wanted to make sure that the bus she takes every other day would be passing by some place that it passes by everyday. This took longer than you would think because it required rewording of the same question repeatedly and then confirming the received answer by repeating it exactly.

“You go to the Toll?

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“So, you’ll pass by the Bridges and then go to the Toll?”

“That’s right.”

“Hmm. That’s right you say?”

“Yes. This bus goes past the Toll.”

She sloshed her way to the back of the bus, and another lady offered her seat.
“You need it more than I do.” The pudding lady said. The polite lady made a reply I didn’t catch but did concede her place and went to the back of the bus. Pudding lady was on a roll now and she sat down with a plop. She pointed at the face of another old lady who was not a pudding lady but just a plain ole’ normal blue rinse grandma and said “You got something on your face, dear.”

I couldn’t help laugh at this whirlwind of unpleasantness that accompanied my morning commute.