I hope you’ve all had a grand Christmas and are gearing up to celebrate in style tomorrow night as we wave “G’bye” to 2014 and usher in a brand new year.
{This gorgeous image via FamilyMint.com}
As usual Derek and I journeyed to our home town in God’s Country {Indiana} for the holiday. It was lovely and unseasonably warm. I visited with my very dear family and some of my dearest friends…we only see each other if I traverse to California, or if we are all home for the holidays. I’m back to Practically Canada now…feeling refreshed and invigorated. Both by the restful week away and the subzero wind chill that I’ve over heard locals referring to as “brisk.”
One of these lovely friends I got to catch up with paid me a compliment that has rooted its way into my heart and made my whole soul smile. He told me that I have a gift for seeing humor in every day life. I never thought of it as a gift. I just figured everyone could look around and find comedy unfolding in every direction. From the evening news to interactions at they gym, and conversations I’ve over heard at the coffee shop…it’s true–I see hilarity happening all around me. So, if it is a gift, or a super power, I’ll claim it with pride.
While we were visiting I told him many tales from Practically Canada. But there was one he particularly liked. Today, before the holidays get too far behind us, I’ll tell you as well.
{This is what I feel like shopping at the mall at Christmas. Image via ChipChick}
The date was Thursday December 18, 2014. Because Derek and I were heading to Indiana on Friday the 19th, I had about a million errands to run before we loaded the car to leave. One such errand was to the {dreaded} mall. I don’t care how small your town is. The mall is not the place you want to be less than a week before Christmas. Especially if you have a cranky streak, like I do, and tend to get fussy when you can’t find/they don’t have/you think it’s too pricey.
I pulled in to the insane parking lot. Because the chaos was so eminent, I reverted to an old mall-going trick I learned back in high school: there’s always parking at Sear’s. It’s true. Unless you are buying an appliance or some tools…you probably won’t park at Sear’s. Think about it. Do you know anyone who parks at Sear’s because they plan to do most of their shopping there? I sure don’t.
So I park and go in to Sear’s. I’m now power walking because I have a thousand tiny things to pick up from all different stores and I have an urgent need to remove myself from the mall as quickly as possible. As I’m flying by the shoe section, I see her. She’s across a shoe rack that has been placed in the middle of the aisle, her face slightly obscured, but I see her nonetheless. Tall, perfectly done eye make up, and a cute, sparkly headband–as usual.
I’m two full days from my last shower, sporting gym clothes, touting a makeupless face {save for some mascara that had been applied days earlier}.
I’m aware of how I look. But I also want to be friendly. Normally, I force myself to “place the face” before speaking…as in–I have to know where I know them from before saying “Hi.” But for whatever reason, be it the cheer of the season, the urgency in my stride, or simply a lapse of judgement…I hear the words “Oh, hey,” come out of my lips. As soon as I said it, I regretted it.
I have no clue who this girl is.
She smiles awkwardly back at me and mutters a greeting. I’ve stopped in my tracks. Like we are going to have a conversation. I’m short and she’s tall and the ratty shoe rack is between us. I take a few weird steps forward and turn to look at her. Now on the same side of the rack. We make eye contact. I’m rolodexing my whole brain, straining to place who this person is.
“Did you think I was someone else?” She asks. Now here’s where things get weird. The correct thing to do, would be to reply, “Yes.” Then walk away. Because I’m me…that’s not what I did. I stand there and make it weird.
“No, I thought you were you.” WHY would I say that? What does that even mean? “Your affiliated with the base, right? Or your husband is?”
“Ummm, no. I’m not in the military and I’m not married.”
“Really? You don’t do anything at the base?”
“Nope.”
Silence. Then I decide to cut my losses and bail. “Okay. Sorry about that.” I walk away. But I walk away smug…because I’m sure {super sure} that I know her from somewhere. I’m confident that we are friends on Facebook. And when I get home I’m going to look her up, then send her a message. Okay, maybe not the message thing…but I’m confident I’ll find her and that I’ll prove we are indeed friendly acquaintances. Then I’ll put this awkward moment behind me for good.
I rack my brain for the rest of the shopping trip. I’m still thinking about it when I sit down at home to check email. I’m cursing Facebook for not having a search feature that will allow me to narrow my results by “tall, wears sparkly headbands, has good eyeliner.” I sit and close my eyes and try to picture her in the setting I know her from. Gym? No–you don’t wear headbands that pretty to the gym. Military? She made it clear it wasn’t that. Downtown? Maybe…
Then, all of a sudden it hits me. I see it clearly in my mind. She has a blue vest on. She’s sweeping. She’s scanning.
She works at Hobby Lobby.
{this is a generic image via World Mag}
She doesn’t know me. Not at all. We are not friends. I don’t even know her name. Smugness crushed. Looks like one too many trips to the craft store this Christmas. Awkward. So awkward. For being so friendly and for a person who talks so much, you think I’d be less weird. Nope.
So, to the girl who works at Hobby Lobby: Hi. It’s Amy. I’m awkward and I’m sorry for being so weird that time at Sear’s. I like your headbands. Thanks for being such a good cashier. You are always really quick with the coupon code and I really appreciate that. K bye.
Have you had a moment like this? I sure hope your last days of 2014 are awkwardness free. Thanks for sticking around…even though I’m so weird.
Amy
