Tonight was the senior class Farewell. Being one of the senior teachers, I was expected to attend. Not only was I expected to attend, I was expected to ... you know ... help out. So I offered to put together the farewell slide show, which ended up being the Farewell Power-Point-Slide-Show-Power-Point-FREAKING-Slide-Show. Don't ask. Let's leave it at it took me over seven hours to put together and leave it at that, shall we?
Due to the start time of the Farewell, I barely had time to come home, eat, change, and get back to the school to put the finishing touches on the aforementioned SS (you can feel free to read that as "Stupid Show" ... because I do). However, since I had a sudden need - yes NEED - to run to Chapters to buy a magazine (fates help me, I am addicted *L*) I had to forgo supper, and even a drink. After I picked up my treasure, I decided to stop at one of three 7-11s on the way to my school. I am standing in line, clutching my 1L bottle of water, and wondering - somewhat belatedly - why the line is A) So long, and B) Not moving. This is 7-11 after all. Usually they are quite speedy.
I was also feeling uncomfortable, since me in a dress is about as natural as ... me in heels *L*. Dresses make me feel uncomfortable, since I feel like an interloper wearing them, like somehow I am not supposed to be wearing them, and some secret society in charge of the dress code is going to drop down like the Pre-Crime Unit from Minority Report and arrest me for some fashion crime I never meant to commit. As I am standing there with my head full of those thoughts and several others I am not mentioning here, the man in line in front of me turns around, smiles at me and begins to chat. At first I was confused, because although he was looking at me, he was far too handsome to be speaking to me. That and I had zero clue what he was talking about. Then the clerk ran past me at light speed and I began to understand. Apparently there was only one clerk working, and someone wanted to buy propane for their gas grill. But honestly? When the guy in front of me said, "That's not supposed to happen when you are here alone," I thought he was talking about me, that I should not be there. Yes, I know, it is not all about me, but sometimes I forget *L*. The clerk was running back and forth to get the correct key for the propane tank lockup, and there was no one around to cover the till while he was doing so. Thus the long line, the wait, and the sudden conversation.
I did my level best to not trip over my tongue, not embarrass myself, and follow the man's conversation, but this was not as easy to do as it sounds. This guy was handsome, and dressed nice in a casual way, and had a seriously nice watch. Yes, I noticed his watch, as that was what I was looking at for a lot of the conversation. It was not until he was finally at the till that I realized his hand was in his pocket, and it quite possibly looked like I was smiling and blushing at his crotch. Way to go, Sarah! And while I wanted to die inside at the realization, when he touched my forearm and told me to have a nice evening, my voice failed me, and so did my thoughts of mortification. I think I just stood there for a few seconds, nonplussed.
Men do not talk to me.
Except when they do.
I never get what causes it, but I am suspecting it is the water.
So I pay for my water, head out the door, and some man on his way in holds the door for me, smiling as he does so. He is a bit older than me, but also quite nice looking. I smiled, stuttered a thank you, then glared at my water bottle accusingly as I made my way out the door to the sound of his warm, "You're very welcome."
It has to be the water bottle.
I know it has to be because as I started to leave the sidewalk to cross the parking lot to the car, an off-the-meter taxi pulled in, then stopped for me. I stood waiting for it to finish pulling in, finally looking at the driver who was A) Smiling at me, and B) Waving me across.
Damn, that water bottle has some magic to it. Normally cab drivers would attempt to run me over, so I know it had to be my Lucky Water Bottle of Goodness. I crossed, waving my thanks and smiling at the driver, and in another amazing move, he smiled and waved back at me!
I don't know if it was the water bottle, the dress, the fact my hair was down, or some science fictionesque combo of the above, but I left that parking lot with the happiest smile on my face.
Okay, yes, it was a grin. Three men in a row were sweet to me. Better than that, they were all strangers! That was nice. That was better than nice. I think it was unprecedented.
Maybe it was the magazine. Regardless, it made me feel a bit better, as I have been feeling down about myself the past little while. Thanks, Fates, for smiling down on me this evening. I appreciate it muchly.
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