Roar

I went shopping and a 20-something store clerk pounced on me the moment I walked through the door, “What do you need help with you old hag?” Well, she didn’t say those exact words, but she might as well have.

I was feeling pretty good about myself until this moment. I was wearing a pair of pre-baby sized pants. It only took 14 years. I don’t like to rush anything and I really love muffins. Ordering a chocolate chip muffin for breakfast is like eating cake, but without the guilt.

I was browsing through a rack of overpriced pants when the clerk approached, “Hi-ya,” she said, “Um, are you like shopping for your son?” I almost went all ‘Daniel son’ on her a**. You don’t start a conversation with “Hi-ya!” It turns out she was just saying hello. “What makes you think I don’t have a young 20-something boyfriend,” I replied. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Um, uh, um,” I rescued her, “I’m kidding, but you never know when a cougar might decide to shop here.” Her co-worker chuckled. She clearly thought I looked old enough to have a teenage son. Does mama needs some Botox, fillers, a Halloween mask, etc. to hide these wrinkles?

It was just what I needed before starting a new job; a real confidence boost. It doesn’t matter how old you are or how much experience you have the first day of work is nerve wracking.
Being the new girl sucks. I must have tried on a half dozen outfits before deciding what to wear. Do you show off the cankles on the first day? Of course, I have a golf ball sized zit growing on my chin.

Perhaps, it was that store clerk’s first day, too? It was nerves. That has to be why she mistook me for an old lady, right?

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