Today I went to a different grocery store that is 10 minutes closer to the big city. I've heard that it is a step above the local Food Lion but still smaller than the super-fancy yuppy stores that I used in Atlanta.
Hello Lowe's Food! I love you! I walked in and was reminded of all the grocery luxaries you give up living in a small town. Boar's Head deli meats? Check. Fancy bakery with pretty cakes and an entire display made just for muffins? Check. Great produce and plenty of good looking single men shopping on a Saturday afternoon? Double check!
I was immediately aware of my clothing choice when every high school bag boy looked at my chest and then smiled wide friendly smiles at me. Ego boost? Check! I love this place!
The woman at the deli counter had a different take on my cleavage showing maxi dress, loose crazy hair, and lack of make-up. When I got to the counter to order, she smiled really big and said, "Now, is this your husband?"
I turn around to glance at who she was referring to...a big, beer-bellied, white haired biker dude complete with leather vest and bandana on his head.
"Um, no. (friendly smile to hide my shock) I don't know him."
Whaaaat? Should I hate myself? Does messy hair and no make-up make me look like a biker chick? Do I look that old?
Apparently, I've lived in a farming town long enough that I've let myself go. I can no longer walk into the somewhat fancy grocery store and fit in. I belong with the biker dude.
A small part of me thinks it is kind of bad ass to be mistaken for a biker wife. The minister who is married to the bearded biker(who was actually married per the ring on his hand and well groomed under the leather vest). That is a fun thought.
Nah. That small part of me does not overshadow the shame of being the trashy girl in the still not-that-fancy store close to the big city. It is time to start exercising and putting on make-up again.
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