Madam Big Eyes

Nothing grants me as much joy as riding the city bus every morning to my beloved job at the University library. No, nothing even comes close except for indescribable taste of coffee, which I recently have taken up again. Giving up coffee was by far the worst idea I have ever developed. The past month has been excruciatingly painful and I have vowed never to put myself through such suffering anymore. I truly do feel as if I have discovered what’s been missing in my life. Life has purpose once again. I felt like a crack addict being reunited with the only substance that understands them and their every need. Sleep really is a symptom of caffeine deprivation. My love for coffee is everlasting and our bond will never be broken. Amen.

As I finished my elixir of life on the bus, I noticed one of my favorite passengers happen to be riding which of whom I call, “Madam Big Eyes.” I have decided to endow her with such a nick-name because every time someone tells her something she reacts with enormous eyes threatening to pop out of socket and is accompanied by a huge gasp of, “Oh my Goodness!” She is probably around her early 60’s and always leaves her mouth open. It saves time I guess when she becomes surprised.

This morning, some man was talking to her about an argument he recently had with another man and he happened to mention his rifle. All I know is that Madam Big Eye’s face must have been exhausted after this story because I have never seen a more animated face. I even became exhausted just watching the wrinkly face contort. I stared in amazement while subtlety trying to mind my own business. I’ve learned the hard way about holding eye contact with fellow passengers on the Veneta bus. Many believe it’s an automatic invitation to start sharing life story.

Madam Big Eyes noticed me staring and quickly said, “Oh, don’t mind me darling. My face does this all the time.” I was completely caught off guard and responded, “Oh, no I’m sorry. It must be a good story with a face like that.” The elderly lady quietly chuckled and immediately returned to her big-eyed self. She knew she made these faces yet she still made them? I then got the sinking feeling that perhaps she couldn’t control how her face reacted and felt a little bad for her. I tried not to look at her the rest of the ride and it was by far the hardest task especially with her yelling, “Oh no!,” “Dear goodness!,” “No!” It was almost as hard as giving up coffee. Almost.