Weirdness At The Ritz Penny Sue here. The weirdest thing happened at the Ritz Carleton. Katherine, my sorority sister who knows the psychic, didn’t answer her cell indicating she was probably taking an after-lunch siesta. By the time she woke up, I knew my chances were slim to none of getting an appointment with the lady before Rich returned. So, I decided to take Ruthie’s former housekeeper, Gerta, to high tea at the Ritz. I knew Ruthie would appreciate my gesture and Gerta was thrilled, since she doesn’t get out much after wrecking her car. Seems she was distracted by a passing friend and smashed right through the wrought iron fence surrounding a new neighbor’s mansion down the street. The former homeowners would have understood because they’ve known Gerta for years. But they’re in an old folks home now. The snotty young couple who bought the house are nouveau rich and don’t know the proper manners for Buckhead. They made a big stink about the wreck and Gerta, who’s pushing seventy, was forced to take a driving test. She flunked. No doubt Ruthie’s father left her enough money to pay for cabs, but Gerta’s German, the proud type, so I suspect she hates to rely on taxis or anyone else for that matter. She has her groceries and sundries delivered, just like she did when Ruthie’s father was alive, so Gerta can get along just fine living in the mansion alone.
Anyway, Gerta and I were having a good time at the Ritz reminiscing about our olden days when I excused myself to go to the restroom. Truth be told, I did have to pee, but really wanted to try contacting Katherine again. So, I’m on my cell in the bathroom of the Ritz Carleton talking to Katherine when this sweet, older lady with bright eyes and a beautiful milk chocolate complexion appeared from nowhere, patted me on the cheek and said, “You’re a good girl.” Absolutely flabbergasted, I hung up in Katherine’s face. Y’all know I am not easily shaken, but there was something special about that woman who disappeared before my mind cleared. Truly, it was electric when the lady touched me! Did I imagine it? Was she a ghost? Laa, I wish Ruthie were here to help me make sense of it all.
There was no time to ponder the question, because Katherine called back with the psychic’s number. I wasted no time calling the sensitive named Nana. Just my luck, she wasn’t home, but I left a message on her answering machine requesting a meeting for the next day. Besides my original relationship questions, I was now very curious about the bright-eyed lady. —Penny Sue
