The Travails of the Astounding!

Sometimes I meet the most interesting people in the most unlikely of situations. Like this woman that I met at the DVD duplicators house/place of business. Which due to intense flooding damage, looked like the house the Home Depot forgot. The top half of the first floor walls being neatly painted and decorated, with the lower half of the walls... completely gone, knocked out, and chipped away through and through. As Mike and I were on our way in, she was on her way out. As she passed me, I could feel the energy rolling off her skin. Some people buzz. And often i can sense them from a block away. However she whizzed by in a nervous blur, hands jetting back and forth, words spinning out of her mouth and into oblivion. I hesitated in asking for her picture, and the moment passed as she made her way out and down the street. Mike and I flashed each other a "what the hell" look of vast amusement and bewilderment. However a few seconds later, as if on cue with my regretful sigh, she burst through the door again, with a declaration to none in particular that she might have forgotten her CD, does this all the time in fact, picks it up here, leaves it there, oh no, there it was in the bag the whole time, silly her!
Thank You Opportunity.
When I asked if I could snap her picture, she quickly replied yes, however seemed quite uncomfortable with the actual posing process. Not that she minded having her picture taken, she seemed tickled by the very notion, but suddenly her natural state of constant motion, became a forced and difficult search for the right position, the right space, the right reaction. Suddenly jolted from her normal rhythms, being asked to reproduce the erratic pattern that was her 'self', proved too great a task. Finally we settled on a spot on the flood eroded wall where she could lean on and gesture naturally for a moment while I set up the shot. Naturally it only took one shot to capture something so perfect. Something about these deranged, lightning eyed people that draws me. . .