For those of you who feel slightly hornswaggled by my last posting. I must apologize as well as cleverly come up with another subject for your reading pleasure. . .
I have been contemplating lately that it's been a long time since I've been put together and appropriate in my appearance. I live in workout clothes and ponytails every day. This has made me realize that my level of acceptable appearance in public has diminished greatly over time, especially since I no longer work professionally. In an office. In the public. My acceptable level of appropriateness is so minuscule to me that I now do what I never said I'd do even if I got hitched, which is go out in public sans makeup or not even brushing the hair. That's what ponytails and hats are for anyway. Why bother? This; however, is not a pretty sight to see or, to quote the 40-Year-Old Virgin, "this is not a good look for me!" It's a wonder people don't run from me as if I've just sporked my own eye out and left it there to hang in all its glory.
Furthermore, most of you know of one of my afflictions called, you-will-be-carded-until-the-day-you-die. (I know! I know! Most of you are shouting, "Oh. Just SHUT UP about this already!") But you see, it's not flattering to me. It never has been. Sure, it would seem to be a fabulous affliction, but I can assure you it is not. I constantly get carded if I try to purchase the fire water, enter a pub or do anything that has any remote possibility of running into alcohol. Always. It's not complimentary, mainly because people are just rude about it. Rudeness does not make one feel young and oh-so-pretty, witty and ni-iiiiiiiice. And then, they. Don't. Believe. Me. Short of me giving them my first unborn, of which I don't even have yet, as evidence to point out the contrary that they are wrong I cannot get them to believe me. I do have proof that I am over the age of 21. *** I carry my Texas appointed drivers license with my official and bona fide birth date listed. I wouldn't even know where to get a fake ID these days. I graduated college almost 13 years ago and I also don't hold/have any questionable friends these days that could help me out with these types of things.
My point is, is that I went to the grocery store last night to pick up a few items for dinner. You know, green beans, milk, cottage cheese, potato rolls and a pack of Shiner Light. I headed to the express check out. There in the 15 Items or Less aisle, was a girl of about 18-years of age checking out groceries. She was amicable enough until she got to my pack of beer. I should mention here, that I had just gotten done with a 75-minute workout at the gym. I was sans makeup, in my sweaty workout duds, most likely did not smell like the delicate flower I usually am and had a visor on my head with a ponytail. I did not look well and I didn't really care. I wanted my items and I wanted to go home, shower and make the husband and I dinner. Instead, she looked at me. I looked at her. This conversation then ensued:
18-year-old grocery gal: You're not 21 are you? (Skeptical and disbelieving look followed)
me: yeah, I am actually 35.
18-year-old grocery gal in complete and utter shocking disgust: No. You're. Not.
me: Yes, I am. Do you want to see my ID?
18-year-old grocery gal viewing my ID and then glancing at me with a look that felt as if I'd purposely turned something off inside me that caused my brain to slowly leak out my left ear. This look made me nervous and completely uncomfortable. It showed as I anxiously laughed and put away my Texas ID.
me: I'll be 36 at the end of April.
18-year-old grocery gal non-believing: Yeah. Right.
*** Even when I am with the husband, I still get carded - he does not and he is FIVE YEARS YOUNGER THAN ME. Do you know how frustrating that is?