Pup Cup

Now I’ve seen everything.

Granddaughter messaged a photo of my great grandson -- her baby Patches, at Starbucks, enjoying a puppuccino.

No coffee. Just whipped cream.

Speaking of having seen everything … Looking in the rear view mirror yesterday afternoon, preparing to back out, head to the market, what did I see but Nurse Ratched driving through.

I figured she was here to see her mom, who remains a resident and is so nice it’s hard to believe Ratched is her real daughter. Tongue-in-cheek speculation is Ratched is adopted.

At any rate, instead of turning to exit the gate, curiosity led me to turn to follow. I saw her park, step out the truck and observed the resident’s daughter living here because she moved in to help her dad suffering with multiple sclerosis, among other ailments, rush up to talk to her.

Interesting, thought I.

Driving past the two of them, halfway to the exit gate, opposite side of the complex, I saw The Baker, pulled over and said, “Nurse Ratched is here”.

“She is? … Where? … If I run into her, I’m going to turn around and go in the other direction”.

“Not me”, said I. “I’m going to laugh in her ‘I always win’ face, but I hope she’s learned the lesson that there is an authority higher than herself.”

Our conversation then turned to tomorrow’s Hot Cocoa and Cookies Social.

Now that we have a few days of sunshine, I really need to head to the spa for a manicure/pedicure. I’d do it myself except, in preparation for nephew’s 40^th birthday party back in December, I’d gotten a gel so I could continue with the needlepoint project without messing up my nails.

If you’ve never had a gel, it’s amazing insofar as nails looking great no matter how much you use your hands. The downside is, I can’t remove the gel myself, it has to be done in the salon and it never stopped raining long enough for me to make the drive.

Tomorrow would have been a good day for the spa, the Hot Cocoa and Cookies Social is likely not to be well-attended or worth it, but I’d already decided to go, bringing fresh baked Trader Joe’s Gingerbread Molasses Cookies – the ones I bought around Christmas and surprisingly didn’t bake and eat all by myself, so the spa will have to wait until next week as their Saturdays are too busy.

After speaking with The Baker, instead of continuing on to the exit gate, something made me turn around and backtrack to the first exit gate, taking me past where Ratched had parked. She was loading up her mom, a couple other family members and luggage into the truck. That resident’s daughter was still talking to her and Ratched had a look on her face like she was angry, saying how she felt about something, but then looked up, saw me, smiled and waved.

I couldn’t believe it.

In all the years she ignored when I smiled and waved, turned her nose up in the air, except for that one time when she was trying to demonstrate to her visiting boss that she was friendly with residents, she had the gall to smile and wave at me.

I burst out laughing and shook my head in disbelief, all of which I’m sure she saw.

Minutes later, having made a stop at the ATM next to Starbucks, who did I see pull up into the parking lot as I was leaving but Nurse Ratched stopping for coffee. It’s a good thing I didn’t go inside, because I’d have been trapped face-to-face with her -- the Universe perhaps giving me a second chance to take the high road.

My reaction would still have been the same – the low road of laughing in her face and shaking my head.

I can’t be fake and Ratched deserves it.

Later, at the mailbox, I saw the resident’s daughter who’d spoken with Nurse Ratched. She said she told her, “I miss you”.

“You’re kidding?” said I.

“Well are things any better with her gone?”

“Yes” said I. “They are. All the unnecessary harassment, lies and intimidation are now gone.”

“Well, what about …” and she went on to bring up two incidents I’d heard nothing about, but both of which took place outside the gates, late at night, and have nothing to do with management or our complex, except a resident was involved, and I told her so. But it gave me an idea as to why Nurse Ratched had that look on her face. The resident’s daughter was probably feeding Ratched’s ego with her version of how bad things are with her gone, which allowed Ratched’s anger at being terminated after what she thinks was the great job she did at managing the place to rise to the surface.

So many deluded souls living a life of alternative facts.