I'm in quarter length yoga pants, a badly fitting tee and flip flops. My face is particularly angry at me today - my new "BB" creme breaks me out horribly every time I put it on, but I'm too broke to afford a new one right now. I've picked and squeezed my face to the point that I look like I'm dying from scurvy. I put on my fake hipster glasses hoping they might detract a little from the google map on my face. I am definitely not looking for attention today.
I ran to the grocery store to grab some fresh mozzarella, Perrier and ice.
"Which size?" the cashier asks.
"Ummm...the good one?"
She chuckles. "We have a 10 lb bag and a 20 lb."
"10 lb it is, then"
Right at that moment a guy comes over to bag my items. He asks me how I'm doing, "Fine, thanks. And you?" like my momma taught me.
I pay, and I see him drop one of my glass Perrier bottles out of the corner of my eye. It lands hard but unharmed, but he's frozen and wide eyed.
"Watch it, buster." I joke.
"Yeah, I don't want that to be what you remember me for."
Was that a... Was that a flirt?
Unlike the clubbing incident, this is flattering and cute. Even when I look like complete shit, I still think someone is flirting with me.
But then - I immediately know it will fail. He's wearing glasses. He might think mine are real. I don't want to have to admit they're fake. Doomed from the start.
- CrazyK
No comments:
Post a Comment