“I think I was possessed” she said.
I thought this was hilarious actually. My cousin detailed a major fight she had with her husband. For once, she lost control and retaliated to the insidious, yet constant little put downs, her husband bestowed on her all these years. She described the scene as that of a woman possessed by another entity. She pulled his hair, almost picking him up bodily from the roots, then proceeded to throw his two suitcases down the stairs for these to gather momentum, and beat his arrival to the ground floor of their condo.
I laughed so hard, simply because this is so out of character for her. She is a relic from the past. She was raised by her straight-laced grandmother, a lady who wore pearls all the time, and was related to Lima’s high society. Unfortunately for her, on the poor side - impeccable manners are simply the norm.
"Don’t berate yourself," I counseled. After all, this is mild compared to the time I chased my brother in law outside while I wielded a frying pan. The soothing tone of my voice had been enough to make him run. I was careful to dent the frying pan only on the tires of his car; this, as he was trying to make his escape by hastily getting into the haven of his vehicle. This was simply an elaborate show; I was not going to get in debt for denting his junky car.
See there is a method to my madness. Like those times I meet inconsiderate drivers on the road? I automatically scan the mirrors for any black and white cars. Or those times when the line to pay is too long or slow? I ask politely, yet with an authoritative tone as to whereabouts of management. I am simply trying to give them tips on how to give better service to (me), their customers.
I love freedom of expression.
