My Favorite Stranger: Becky

As many do, I was pampering myself for Easter/my birthday. (Unfortunately, this year, they were one and the same.) Half hungover and half asleep, I slouched in my chair and fought off heavy eyelids as my favorite Vietnamese manicurist performed what I call an Easter miracle on my nails.

Just as I was ready to give in, close my eyes and tune out, Becky walked in.

I’m not sure what was bigger, her personality or those lips smothered in firetruck red lipstick. But I immediately liked both. I’m not sure that everyone has this incredible ability, but I tend to know if I will like someone the minute I see them. Its almost telepathic…or maybe psychic? Hmm, maybe I should make a career detour to HR.

Nonetheless, Becky was one of those people that I knew I would like. Within seconds, she bellered hello to the room and plopped down in the chair next to me as if we were related. Looking over at my nails, she said, “Now that’s a nice color.” I opened up immediately, letting her know that Sunday—the following day—was not only Easter, but also my birthday. She had to know.

“Damn girl, you’re gonna look hot for your birthday!” she said. And just like that, Becky and I were tight.

The conversation progressed beyond small talk. We got to talking about her husband and family and eventually the new baby boy her daughter birthed two weeks ago, weighing in at sixish pounds. “But you wouldn’t believe it,” she said. “Two weeks later and he’s an inch and a half longer and 8.6 pounds… that kid likes the tit!”

My inability to breathe from laughing sent tears down my cheeks. She reassured me, “That kid really likes the teat.”

Likes the Teat

I’m actually surprised my nails turned out at all. Our manicurists’ eyes lit up and they giggled like little school girls. She didn’t even know she was funny. She was just real.

We moved onward and started to discuss Easter and everyone’s plans. She asked our manicurists, “What do you Vietnamese people eat for Easter anyway?” They grinned and said seafood. Forget the effing ham. Becky wasn’t afraid of anything. I’d take her as a friend ‘cause she’d surely tell me when I was being an idiot. Becky didn’t hold back on anything.

People seemed to like her, including Pastor Matt. The story evolved when talking about Easter mass. Becky enlightened me that, a few years ago, her church in Moorhead was so full that they ran out of wine for communion. Rather than packing up shop and moving on, Pastor Matt had a better idea. Becky marched her little butt across the street and grabbed her box of pinot from home to save the day. What a hero. “Pastor Matt really likes me,” she said. Ummmm… who wouldn’t?

Becky, I’ll show up to the same salon in hopes of running into you again someday. It will be my pleasure. Man, the humans of Fargo aren’t so bad. See ya soon girl.

Loving Becky? Read about Traci, Carrie, Angelique, Jeff and his coworkers, the Schiavo family and friends, and the Arizona boys—my other favorite strangers.

Leave a Reply