Something happened to me yesterday that has not happened before, and it really has me thinking. I’ll start from the beginning.
I was grocery shopping for about a half hour. Carefully picking the best produce and nice lean cuts of meat. Minding my own business.
There was only one cash register open (and she was really slow –forgive me for saying this, but she was like a thousand years old). I had things to do. It was almost on cue that another worker appeared at the register next to her.
She was about 45 and pretty hip looking (minus the Jersey Shore-esque tan).
She told me to move to her line since I was next. I began happily (and youthfully) trotting over to her. Yes, people, there was a pep to my step as soon as she looked in my direction and started to say “I’m open now. You can…”
Skippity Doo Dah! Me & my squeaky carriage with the crazy spinny front wheel zipped over… until she finished her sentence with “move to this line MA’AM”
Everything got blurry and a bit fuzzy.
I immediately felt my face become pink, then red, then purple. I stopped dead in my tracks and realized she couldn’t have been talking to me. I looked behind me to look at the presumably nice old lady behind me to apologize for running (skipping actually) ahead of her. Where were my manners?
There was a 16-year-old boy behind me. That was it. She was talking to me.
I was Ma’ammed.
I turned back to her and slowly put my cucumbers on the short conveyor belt.
I was never “Ma’ammed” before.
Maybe I took it a little too seriously, but I’ve only heard of old ladies or at least middle-aged women called this evil pronoun. I know she was trying to be polite, but she had no clue of the crazy spiral this sent me down!
Maybe it’s my impending 29th birthday (August 20th). I know it’s not “old”, but it’s the last year of my twenties. The carefree, easy, breezy, youthful, “just-a-few-years-ago-I-was-in-high-school” twenties . On the way home from the
public humiliation supermarket, I realized that it’s been over 10 years since I was in high school. I am a wife and a homeowner. I clip coupons. I honestly consider a large glass of pinot, sewing a fabric flower brooch, picking my first squash from the backyard garden, and catching the latest episode of The Bachelorette a rockin’ night.
I am getting
Has anyone out there had a moment like this? Please tell me I’m not alone! Share your story. Commiserate with a sistah.