I really had no intention of blogging today. I’m cutting back, you know. However, I had the most awful thing happen to me today. And I ran crying in the streets, whined to every single person I encountered and still have not been able to exercise this demon from my brain. So who ya gonna call? No, not Ghostbusters. I’m turning to you, my beloved bloggy buddies. I know that I can count on you to show me the love. I know you darlings can be relied upon to tell me
lies the truth. Ahhhh, I feel better already.
So here is what happened:
On a lunch break last week, I came across a pair of shoes that were so comfy and exactly what I needed. I was wearing heels at the time and they were NOT shopper friendly. My tootsies were crying. I slipped on the little angels and ahhhhhhhhh, instant relief. However, showing incredible restraint, I left without making the purchase. But the shoes…..they called to me…..they haunted me……I had to go back.
Today I went back to get the comfy shoes. I figured that I deserve them, right? That’s what I said to myself. “Self, you deserve those comfy shoes that you walked away from last week. Now just hurry yourself back to the store before some other woman goes home with your shoes.” And so I did.
When the clerk rang up the sale, I was surprised to see that the sale with tax was less than the price of the shoes. Never one to make a fuss, I quietly left the store without mentioning the obvious error. Imagine my horror, when upon inspecting the receipt I found that I had been given the “55 and over discount.” That bitch! Damn her! I stood there like my feet were glued to the pavement. I was dumbfounded. I was speechless. I didn’t know whether to go back and demand to pay full price or slink to the car in a state of total depression and just be grateful for the price break.
Eventually I staggered to the car. I sat there in a daze. I got out my phone and took a self-portrait with the camera on my crackberry. OMG! I did look over 55. I bet you want to see that picture, right? Yeah, I figured. Scroll down:
Not that being over 55 is a bad thing, mind you………unless
you are only 27 aren’t even 50 yet.
My commute home takes about an hour. I had lots of time to stew in my own juices. I called MHS. He reassured me that I don’t look anywhere near 50, let alone 55. Here is a man who knows on which side his bread is buttered. Next I whined to Daddy (in whose eyes I will forever be six years old). Daddy said that the woman was just being nice and gave everyone the discount.
I was not to be consoled. I stopped at the grocery on my way home. I ran into my next door neighbor and told my tale. She told me that I look great and the woman was clearly an idiot or visually challenged. It was about that time that Daughter #1 joined me to shop for dinner. I told her what had happened and she laughed her fool head off. She actually guffawed. So much for moral support……
After she composed herself (jerk) we moved on to the seafood department. Being completely consumed with my own midlife crisis, I turned to the man behind the counter and asked what he might suggest for dinner. He asked D1 and I if we liked pork. Huh? D1 said, “Aren’t you the fish guy? Way to support your department.” He laughed and said he was NOT the fish guy but was just covering the seafood counter. I argued that he has sold me lots of fish in the past and that must make him “almost the fish guy.” Now that we were friends and all, I said, “Hey, Mr. NOT the fish guy. How old do you think I am?” He said that I was probably 35. I rewarded him with a smile
instead of a psycho reach across the counter punch in the nose and bought the salmon. I love intelligent men.
So my lovelies, show me the love. Lie to me if you must.
How old do I look? Twenty-seven, right? Never mind that I’m standing next to my 24 year old daughter. This is my most recent photo…….other than the one above that I took today. Regardless of what you really think, just tell me that I don’t look 55 and older so I can move on with my life.