A Day In Painesville

The nicest thing happened to me the other day.  I was working in Painesville, Ohio, when I was approached by a customer.  Since I wear a badge, I am often mistaken for a store employee and asked to help.  I began my usual spiel of  'I'm sorry, but I am not qualified to give medical advice.  Please see the pharmacist'.  The man stopped his query and said "can I buy you a drink?",  just like that.

Now the last time this happened, back in the fall of last year, I was also in Painesville; the man was a neighborhood unsavory character.  He had been following me around the store wanting to "talk", he said.  It took a store manager and another to get him to leave.  When I left the store, he was hiding behind cars in the parking lot and grabbed my arm.  "I said I wanted to talk, pretty lady!"  Too scared to scream, I froze just long enough to get a grip on myself.  I was just about to give him a kick in the nethers when a welcome voice from the store said "I'm calling 911!"  Thank God she had the foresight to watch me go to my car.  The man took off, as did I.

I told my sons about the experience.  One got me a stun gun, the other got pepper spray.  Hubby wants me to change jobs.

So my knee-jerk reaction was just that, but no, he was really very nice.  Tallish, about my age, well-dressed with a pleasant smile.  I declined, of course, not being one to take up invitations from total strangers.  I'm sorry if I bothered you, he said, but you're so pretty!  Maybe another time...and he walked away.

My heart pounded.  Somebody I didn't know said I was pretty! The boost to my ego was tremendous.   I skipped through the rest of my chores, smiling more than usual.  What a rush.  It takes so little to make me happy, as my friend Cindy would say.

On my way home, still grinning like the sixteen-year-old in my brain, I stopped to buy bread.  There were a couple of boys in the store, fifteen or so would be my guess.  I'm sure I looked haggard by then.  I was  searching my pockets for the cash I knew was there someplace when I heard one of them say, "GET A MOVE ON, GRANDMA!"

POP! went my balloon, Yes, I'm a grandma, but the eldest is only twelve, not as old as these guys.  My hair is silver, not grey.  Somebody told me today that I'm pretty....sigh...

It takes so little to spoil my day.