I fought for that shoe

The obese woman was now raising her voice at me. “I fought for that shoe, and it’s mine fair and square.” I could tell confrontation was not something she was accustomed to dealing. She stammered a bit. Her face was boiling red. When she pronounced the ‘m’ in ‘mine’ it came out from somewhere deep in her neck, as if the ‘mmmm’ surfaced like deep sea methane from somewhere incidental after a struggle. I was worried she would have a heart attack. No, that’s not true, I wondered if she would have a heart attack. Could I get her that upset over a shoe? In retrospect, no. She could have never had a heart attack over the shoe or her anger. She enjoyed the overreacting. She enjoyed the yelling. She was blowing off steam. Someone took her lunch and cut her off in traffic. She was angry. The outburst was healthy and after it, she would feel great.