Don't worry, I'm still kicking. In fact, I'm gonna kick until I need new shoes. Speaking of shoes...
Remember Mom's flying nun shoes?
Here's a tip: Don't wear three inch heels to work unless you sit at a desk all day.
I experienced a close talker today. In case you don't know, a close talker is inches from your face, like Joe Biden when he talks to the ladiessss.
This lady was looking for a patent leather clog. Yes, I'm Al Bundy, y'all. Only, when I come home from work, I don't stick my hand in my pants when I sit on the couch. In fact, there's no sitting after work. I continue my real job after I get home from work, and my real job title is Mom. Only you have to say it like Quinn Morgandorfer, "Mah-oooooommmmm."
Anyway, back to the close talker...So Joe Biden's long lost twin sister comes into the store today looking for a patent leather clog she saw online at Zappos. After I explained that we didn't carry the particular brand she was looking for, she described, in detail, how she had fallen in love with these shoes online. She couldn't sleep over wanting this pair of shoes. Patent leather clogs with ripples. Yes, ripples, all down the top and around the sides. I kept trying to picture these shoes in my head. What color? Ripples? Like the potato chips? I could only picture the rather unfortunate-looking dull, matte red clogs someone had returned the day before. I tried to imagine the red leather as patent with ripples all over it, and only succeeded in picturing what a red patent leather potato chip would look like on a foot.
Aunt Bethany Biden was mere inches from my face as she described her insatiable desire for these clogs. I may not have mentioned it before but I truly value my personal space. I don't want people to stand too close in the checkout line. I don't want you to touch me. And I really don't want to have a conversation with anyone with our faces inches apart unless I fucking love you, or the music is really loud. And even then, I'd rather just lean in just close enough to read your lips.
This lady had no idea what personal space is; it could have been more awkward, I suppose. But only if I had just stuck my tongue out as she got closer and closer to my face and just licked her. But I think licking the customer's faces is frowned upon, although I haven't actually attempted it...yet. We talked for quite a few minutes; she is going to tell her son at Thanksgiving dinner to buy her these shoes online. I encouraged this. Every once in a while a pair of shoes comes along and just speaks to your soul, buy meeeeee. I know, I've heard the tiny screaming of the cute shoes.
And then there are the shoes that are just...ugly. They have tiny screams too, run awaaaay!
Some lady just stopped by to browse last week and when I offered to help her with whatever she might need, she says, "All these shoes are just...well...ugly. I haven't bought shoes here in years because they're all so ugly.
"Oh, I'm 'sorry.'"
So why the fuck do you keep coming here? But I didn't say that. I have gotten very proficient at holding my tongue. I hardly ever say the first thing that pops into my head anymore. But you can bet your sweet ass I'll be thinking about saying it for a good ten to fifteen seconds. People mistake this pause for inattention. But it's just me running a hundred different responses through my mind before choosing, hopefully, the least offensive phrase.
Like Mom said, "It's better to keep your mouth shut and appear ignorant than to open it and remove all doubt."
