Theresa

I was waiting at the corner for the light to change when I heard a woman yelling at me from her car in an eastern European accent. Hey Vi-toria! You loooser! Vi-toria! Don't pretend you can't hear me! I looked up, afraid that this was who I thought it was. And then I saw her. She got out of her car and started right towards me with her horrible smile and that big insane hair-do of hers. She was carrying an umbrella to protect herself from the snow flakes, and wearing dark glasses that hid half of her face. It was Theresa. My boss from over eleven years ago. I froze.

The only appropriate thing thing to do when one encounters this woman is to run away or to hide. One time when I saw her at the bookstore I hid. Another time at the bank, while right in the middle of writing a deposit slip, I ran. This is the only thing to do. Because Theresa has a way of killing people so that they still appear to be alive, with their hearts still beating and everything, but they are dead. Believe me. They are mere human shells of what they once were after she's done with them. So, even though she had already seen me, I entertained thoughts of bolting. Unfortunately, as in so many nightmares I've had, I'd temporarily lost the ability to use my legs.

I was queasy and my heart was racing. I just stood there and awaited her punishment. And she was coming towards me fast, too. Looking like a too heavily made-up, little rough around the edges modern day Ingrid Bergman, it was Theresa: hell on wheels. I imagine she is as quick as she is because she's so accustomed to people running away from her. Because she can't, simply can NOT let any of her victims slip away. No. I braced myself for the worst. What could else I do, Theresa's particular knack for messing with people's minds is legendary (on Oak Street, at least), her favorite device being subtle insistence, a method outlined very eloquently by Hitler in Mein Kempf.

Of course she's also very capable of insulting a person outright. And she's not above name calling. She'll do what ever it takes to finish the job. So, at this moment I was ready for anything. And immediately, before I could even say hello, she asked me in a mock whisper if I was still waitressing. I feigned whiplash and handed her my card for frankenmonsterblog. I figured this was safe. It's worded so vaguely that no one could ever determine what it is that we actually do just by reading it. Though, I must say, while we were talking it started to occur to me that she would be great at frankenmonsterblog, and could bring to the table something quite rare in terms of the heartless revenge.

I mean, it would be priceless to sic Theresa on someone. And she would be perfect as one of our in house specialists. Who better to train our interns the fine art of gaslighting/crazy-making? And I already knew that there was very little that Theresa wouldn't do for money. While she appears to be no more than a well maintained, extra bitchy salon owner, there is no doubt in my mind that her youth was spent being trained by her government to be a secret weapon of some sort. I imagine her specialty was to slowly but surely breaks down the enemy.

I couldn't bring myself to recruit her, though, afraid as I was that she'd only wind up driving me crazy. Finally, I had to make up some kind of excuse to get away from her, as I could sense that she now had her proverbial big knives poised at me to go in for the kill. And, seriously, any person who would have overheard our conversation would have laughed out loud, I was so clearly defending myself. I was finally saying goodbye, and slowly backing away, when she said, Ya, see you later, loser. Just like that. Utterly no respect for any human being, not even one who just endured a round with her (and this had been a surprise attack).

I realize that people are really just her playthings, their misery being her one and only goal. So, I turned around and said, Theresa, do you mind if I ask.. what are you doing these days, are you still at the salon? She said, yeah, why..? I told her I felt that there was a world of opportunity for her at frankenmonsterblog, and that, indeed, there's no limit to what we could do for her, that is, if she was interested. She responded both incredulously and anxiously with, What Vi-toria..? (pregnant pause only a European could pull off) ..are you offering ME a job? And, fully aware that this was either pure genius or a colossal mistake, I said,
Yes, Theresa. I believe I am..