Overheard at a Salon

by Roo on December 9, 2014

in storytelling

I walked into a little salon to buy a gift card for the holiday season. I sat and waited and sipped green tea since that’s how they do. It was pretty quiet, except for this conversation. My gift card was ready long before I left, but I was there for the monologues.

80 year old woman, short, wispy gray hair to a stranger next to her: You know, I’m 80 now. I took care of myself really well. I looked really sharp, up until 65. Now, I don’t care as much. Who do I have to impress? I don’t bother shaving my legs. I get my hair done and I have them wax my face – hair grows strange when you get old, honey – but other than that, I haven’t cared as much since I turned 65.

55 year old woman: Why when you turned 65?

80 year old woman: That’s when I became a widow. You know, and it’s okay. You know what’s sad? Every day I read the paper, and there are young men – I mean, really young men, with young wives and babies — dying. That’s sad. That’s what’s really sad. My husband dying at the age of 67? That’s okay. We had 45 glorious years together, and I don’t for one second ask God why he had to go. I’m just thankful for the 45 years we had.

55 year old woman: I’m a widow, too. I guess when you get widowed younger, though, you can remarry.

80 year old: Are you going to remarry?

55 year old woman: No… he was my second husband. Feels like two marriages are enough for anybody.

80 year old: I loved my husband. I did everything with him. I followed him around everywhere. I lived for that man. I’m Irish and he was Italian. A marriage like that was unheard of in my day. My mother-in-law — you know, rare is the woman that is kind to her daughter-in-law. My mother-in-law — hoo! she did not like me — but I didn’t care! I wasn’t sleeping with her!

[At this point, everyone around her starts howling. I was doing that thing where you try to hold laughter in and your shoulders shake uncontrollably.]

80 year old: 45 years together. Anyway, my daughters keep telling me I should shave my legs. Don’t quite see the point.


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