I saw her in the hallway. She was like a blur at first and then I was forced to focus. She came lumbering towards me, all 300 lbs of momma’s good cookin.’ Big, white teeth. Flailing arms wobbling like jello in a bowl. Charcoal hair carelessly sticking out chaotically in all directions. She halted abruptly like a cartoon character.
“Shake my hand!” She demanded.
I hesitated, then obliged.