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Monday, May 19, 2014

The Wadda Wadda Wadda Lady

On Saturday I went to the neighborhood Coffee Bean to meet a friend for java and conversation.  I arrived early and found a table in the far corner of the patio with plenty of shade and no direct sunlight to induce squinting.

Seated at the table beside me was an attractive older woman in her early 70s. She was seated by herself.  When I sat down we smiled at each other.

I proceeded to unwrap my Lemon Currant Scone and sip my coffee while she proceeded to dial her phone.

Then I heard her speak, and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She seemed to be saying “Wadda Wadda Wadda” not once or twice but repeatedly.  It was very rhythmic with melodic highs and lows and a few breaks to catch her breath and start all over again.

Was I hearing correctly? 

Wadda wadda wadda wadda wadda… wadda wadda… wadda…

Was she a fellow Bostonian with a heavy Bostonian accent?  Was she telling the person on the phone to be sure to have plenty of “water” on hand for the hot, hot day? 

After hearing her say it over and over again I decided she wasn’t a Bostonian because a Bostonian would only have to say it once, and the person listening would know exactly what was being said.

Then I thought she was speaking a foreign language I never heard before.  But that didn’t make sense. I know a lot of people and have experienced a lot of foreign tongue and nothing I’ve experienced ever resembled what she was saying.

She hung up the phone and looked at me and smiled broadly. I returned the smile. In her eyes I saw something I’ve never seen before. It was a far away look, though friendly, but definitely far away, maybe from a far away galaxy.

She dialed her phone again and began the same phrase but with a different, more staccato rhythm.

Wadda wadda… wadda… wadda wadda… wadda wadda… wadda…

Then I remembered actress Anne Heche telling Barbara Walters she had a split personality with its own language. Was this woman on the phone with Anne Heche?  She seemed to be enthralled by her conversation.

When the conversation ended she turned her attention to me and began talking.

Wadda… wadda wadda.. wadda wadda wadda!

I didn’t know how to respond. I wondered if I should wadda wadda wadda along with her or talk to her in English or French or Pig Latin?  Before I could decide she stood up and gathered her things.  She smiled a huge smile as if she was the happiest woman in the world. At that moment I believed she was and her happiness was infectious.  I was suddenly giddy.

The wadda wadda wadda Lady waved good bye.

I too waved good bye.

And that was my Saturday morning adventure at The Coffee Bean.

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