I was enjoying yet another peaceful ride home from work when scarycowboyhatlady entered my world again. This time, she was not on the bus where I’d first encountered her. No, she was an unwelcoming sight when I exited the bus at my stop, the Food Lion parking lot. And she was not quietly sitting on the bench either. She was pacing back and forth, waving her arms at passing cars and yelling for them to stop. “Great” I thought – this ought to be good. I also fervently prayed that Rebecca was on her way, and that I would be in the comforts of “white lightning” (our Saturn) any minute. However, this particular day was not the kind of day where Rebecca was out of the office on time. No, this was the type of day where she was saving the world, one crisis at a time. I, on the other hand, was forced to wait with scarycowboyhatlady once again.
I was able to avoid her and “sneak” off the bus and onto the bench opposite the shelter and where she was flagging down cars unsuccessfully. I sat to myself, breathing in bus fumes as it sat idling for possible riders. Once it departed, it was just me, scarycowboyhatlady and my silent fears of another encounter. My acute listening skills were able to piece together scarycowboyhatlady’s own little troubling predicament. She had obviously given up on the ticket sales business and was now only concerned with one thing: getting a light for her cigarette. Each car that unwittingly drove past on their way to pick up some needed grocery items were now being accosted by a scary, crazed African American woman wearing a cowboy hat, jeans and ratty t-shirt with an unlit cigarette dangling out of her mouth. As they drove past she was screaming at them, whether their window was up or down, a garbled, “hey! I need a light! Let me use you car lighter!” By the time she got it all out, her cigarette had fallen to the ground and the terrified drivers were long gone. This was certainly amusing to me – and I snickered at her expense. I knew that she would be coming my way eventually, but I still had to laugh at her ridiculous plight. Sure enough, she spotted me on yet another failed attempt. As she made her way over to me, I noticed something both startling and sad – she was barefoot. She was walking on the asphalt with no shoes or socks on and didn’t seem to even notice. Why on earth was she walking on this terribly uneven, glass-chards abound ground asking for a light to her one cigarette? She obviously had bigger problems. But, hey, who am I to judge? She approached and asked for a light. I again, told her that I didn’t have one and shook my head apologetically. Then the unthinkable happened. She tried to engage in a conversation with me.
“You know that song?” She was humming the tune of an oldies song that I can’t for the life of me recall for I have permanently erased it from my memory so as to not associate any song with scary cowboy hat lady. “Yeah, that’s a good song…” So she’s singing and flagging down cars driving past and then… she started dancing. She began to bop and dance to the tune of her own baritone singing voice. To hold the laughter in was only accomplished by how awkward and unbelievable the situation was. I couldn’t help but think of the many friends I wish were there with me to witness the debacle. So she is just boppin’ away to this tune, and looking back every now and then to see if I was going to join in. I was staring, I won’t lie – I just stared at her and then looked feverishly around for my wife. Scarycowboyhatlady then started to make her way further into the road in hopes to make herself even more seen and heard in her quest for some sweet tobacco release. She failed, time after time as people continued to drive past – some looking straight forward and avoiding her gaze (which was still a freaky gaze might I add) and some doing more of an unbelieving stare or gawk. When Rebecca arrived, I jumped in via Dukes of Hazard and told her to floor it unless she wanted to be attacked for our lighter.
This wasn’t the last I’d see of her – I saw her about a week later up to the same thing – this time though, she was knocking on car windows at the stoplight. As the bus pulled into the stop, she was even tapping the window of a state trooper’s car. I thought that this would surely be the end of it– but no, even this officer of the law avoided her. Rebecca was thoroughly disturbed when she arrived - as we both prayed the light would be green by the time we needed to go. It was the last time I saw her for these last couple months – the legend of scary cowboy hat lady, moving slowly amongst the unsuspecting cars, yelling for a light to her cigarette continues – where she is, remains a mystery. Sing it scary cowboy hat lady – sing it loud and proud – and for the love of God, someone get that woman a tobacco patch.
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