Oh My Heavens, There She Is!

It finally happened.
I saw the woman who directs the homeless shelter face-to-face at Wal-mart Saturday.
It was bound to happen sooner or later, as Sheridan is not a vast metropolis where you can get lost in the crowd. Someone in the crowd usually knows your mom, taught you in school, knows your daughter, or just knows your car.
It was she and her husband and maybe an offspring.
She was all smiles and said, “Tim, how AAARRRE you.”
“Fine.”
“We sure miss you at the shelter.”
“Oh, you do not,” I said, smiling (or sneering, I can’t remember).
“Of course we do,” she said.
“Well,” I paused to decide whether to argue, then said, “That’s nice.”
“I really do wish you the best,” she said cheerily.
Since that isn’t a complete sentence, I am supposing she meant “funeral you’ve ever had,” or, “case of some quick and lethal disease.”
At any rate, even a crude, horrible man such as myself can appreciate her civility, even though it was an opaque façade. Even psychos can be nice sometimes. She might have been in a good mood because she just kicked somebody out of the shelter. That really gets her endorphins going.
Had I had the presence of mind (never happens when it needs to) I could have asked:
1. Does this mean you are going to pick up the telephone now, when your caller ID says it’s me?
2. Are going to allow staff to talk to me when I call?
3. Are you going to call the resident to the phone who I want to talk to?
4. Are you going to allow me on the property at the shelter without calling the VA Police to escort me away for trespassing?
5. Are you going to stop grilling residents about whether they have been in contact with Tim Cummings to cause trouble?
Naw, she doesn’t miss me THAT much!