So I mentioned a few weeks ago that I'm making more of an effort to wear "real" clothes (aka not pajamas) when I leave the house and although it's a lot of pressure to have to find something that matches and that doesn't have a superhero logo on it every. darn. day. I've really been doing ok.
So last week when it was time to go grocery shopping, instead of my yoga pants and Batman tshirt, I put on a lovely, summery dress and off I went.
My hair even looked cute that day. It was awesome.
But as I was pulling into the Kroger parking lot, I noticed it looked pretty crowded. And all the cars there were large - like, Cadillac large. And everything was moving at about 1/10 normal speed. Some quick day-of-the-week searching in my head led me to believe that either a) there was some sort of rift in the space time continuum or b) it was senior citizen discount day.
Now please don't misunderstand me here. I like old people just fine. Really. It's large groups of any particular kind of people together in one place that I am not a fan of. There's some sort of herding instinct that seems to happen when you get people of a similar... whatever together, and THAT is what I prefer to avoid at all costs.
But I was already there and I was already DRESSED, for goodness sake, so I soldiered on. I was going to use my good hair day, so old folks, get out of my way. I have some eggs to buy.
And it wasn't terrible. I mean, it was BAD, but it wasn't really, really, really, really bad. So I kept at it. Eggs: check. Tomatoes: check. Bananas: ch... Oh, was that lady talking to me? I'll studiously look at these bananas and pretend she was NOT talking to me. NottalkingtomeNottalkingtomeNottalkingtomeNottalkingtomeNottalkingtomeNottalkingtome... Oh yes ma'am. How are you? You like my dress? Well, thank you so much!
At that point I felt slightly better about my decision to go ahead with my shopping despite the busyness of the store, because that 80 year old woman likes my dress! I mean really, who doesn't love a good compliment?
So I shopped on.
And it wasn't until the THIRD 80 year old woman told me in a whispery, paper thin voice how much she liked my dress that I realized OH FOR THE LOVE I'm dressed like an 80 year old woman. A stylish 80 year old woman, but still...
And so, that's the story of how I donated a nearly-new, only worn once dress to Goodwill.
I hope it's new 80 year owner and it will be very happy together.