Tuesday's are my third favourite day of the week, after Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday. That would make it for fourth favourite and I am stupid.
I have always prided myself on having an excellent memory, which is great for my “I told you so” persona. I recently have become unemployed as such, but I'm not unemployed if that makes sense, because I'm also freelance which makes no sense. Put it this way, I do lots of stuff, and I don't always get paid. Tuesday was another such day where I was debating – what for breakfast? Cheerios or Toast? What interesting things can I do today. What adventures can I have. Unfortunately for me, I cannot remain inconspicuous. It's like a disease. Someone will always notice me.
I JUST WANT TO BLEND IN.
Sadly, it doesn't happen.
Tuesday was full of dismay, disgust, dread and a whole host of other words beginning with D. To not go into it in too much detail (because I'm slightly embarrassed and actually rather secretive) I ended up in a place I vowed never to step in again, wearing a free t-shirt which caused a lot more people to look at my chest more than usual. In this place, I was on the verge of having a small panic attack, or perhaps a large panic attack. But I averted it by frantically messaging a friend telling them how my life just SUCKED.
Called up to the desk I was then, by a friendly youngish black guy, who was smiley and seemed like an alright sort. So I relaxed. He then took my smiling and nodding as a precursor for a conversation. A long winded conversation. Oh for fucks sake.
He asked me if I had any children and waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively. I hope my face showed sufficient outrage. Being 24 but looking like a 15 year old, according to a well known photographer is an annoyance, but it also means no-one ever gives me a funny look for ordering a Happy Meal. He then proceeded to go on about his cousin who had married (or knocked up – I was trying not to listen) an Asian bird, and how it'd caused a lot of tension with her family or whatever. I nodded and muttered something about families always worry whilst inwardly cursing myself for being friendly in the first place.
“I mean her parents won't even talk to her anymore!” I idly wondered if I stabbed myself in the eye with one of the pens on the desk if he'd even notice. “I mean what is wrong with you people?”
I snapped back to attention. YOU PEOPLE? I told him how offensive that was, actually I more or less snarled. He immediately retreated, like a mouse into its hole and stammered that he was sorry and he didn't mean it that way. I told him to just get back to what he was doing so I could get out of there.
After I left, I was irritated. But also slightly thankful. His verbal gaffe caused me to momentarily forget my panic and unease. Although who tries to chat someone up by asking them if they have any kids? The mind boggles.