I hopped over to a café straight out of the 1950’s and plunked into a corner chair. A woman slid into an adjacent table her eyes framed by deep red glasses, which distracted me for only a second from her floral green dress that was slightly reminiscent of a garden left alone for weeks and over-grown with weeds. One of her thick black clogs tapped the wood floor at constant four beat. She is a woman for whom the declaration “tempestuous” seems remarkably fitting. She positioned herself squarely across from a gaggle of executive style individuals that had a similar appearance to a group of people who have emerged from spending too much time in the sun; wearied faces dulled by the rays while the cheeks shined as bright as freshly waxed pink lady apples. My immediate opinion of her vociferous personality is that arguing with her must be akin to wearing a tight ponytail for many hours. Her framed eyes reel you in but her ravenous mouth babbles about hypocrisy and inconsistency in others while managing to never divulge a single reflection about herself. She reached into the depths of her neon patent leather purse and produced a brilliant shade of red lipstick, which she liberally applied to her already cherry lips. The combination of her red lips and their crimson cheeks made for entertainment straight out of a Cirque du Soleil viewing.