An old friend passed away yesterday.
I had known her for over fifteen years and was one of the first people she knew after she came to town. A little tiny woman, every one just knew her as Jomama.
She landed in the little town I live in with pretty much nothing.
I didn't have much but I gave her some pots and pans, some furniture and an old green terry cloth bathrobe that I had.
As far as I know, she still had that fucking thing.
She just loved that damn thing, it was as big as a tent on her but she used to wrap it around her and snuggle up in front of her television in it.
The old woman just loved me.
She couldn't have been four foot fucking nothing, maybe 4 foot three, just a tiny little old Italian girl.
She had to have been in her seventies by now. Always had a different wig on. Some of them were pretty damn good ones too.
She worked as a waitress for the longest time at a joint that has a pretty damn good breakfast menu.
There is another sweetheart there in her seventies doing the same damn thing.
Loud and flirtacious, she was a hoot.
She used to get hammered and someone would have to take her home, she only lived two blocks away.
I carried her drunk little ass home many times.
She got hammered one night and tried to walk home by herself and fell down on the edge of a curb and broke both of her fucking wrists. In her late sixties, she would have someone prop her narrow little ass up on a bar stool and order another beer. They had to put steel plates in her arms and it barely slowed her down.
I am going to miss that little fireball.
One more funeral, again. Getting old really sucks.
FYI, she got lit up one night and left her little blonde wig in my truck after I took her home.
I woke up just as lit as she was, went down town and saw the damn thing sitting on the seat.
I went to where she worked, put the damn thing on and walked in. Everyone in the joint just busted a gut laughing,
Pretty soon, here she comes, hung over like a bastard to go to work and I told her I wanted a Bloody Mary. She just nodded at me and walked away until someone pointed out I had her wig on.
She had a cow on the spot and grabbed it off my head and stuck it on hers, backwards and proceeded to go make my bloody mary.
God Damn, that was funny.
I still say it looked pretty damn good on me.
Quite the lady.
Sorry for your loss man, sounds like you two had some crazy times together.ReplyDelete
she was a crazy but wonderful lady. i'm gonna miss her. little bitReplyDelete
So sorry to hear about your friend, Busted. She sounds like a winner - and in the book of our lives - we don't meet that many.ReplyDelete
hey phil, could you please let me know when the funeral is....i would like to go if i can...joann aka little bitReplyDelete
Busted, ya don't ever get finer for deed done or care of others than in this diary.ReplyDelete
Bless that woman, waitress.
We're all gonna be 80 sooner or later.
N we're all gonna die one way or another.
Till then, I hope we'll all do as good as we can.
That woman hoss, is a delight, inspiration, and a great love.
Thanks for all you share . . . .yer a hoss.
dayam honey, i'm so sorryReplyDelete