So I discovered to my abject horror this morning that every pair of dress pants that I own but one -- that's EVERY PAIR BUT ONE -- no longer fits me. And not in the good way. So after my desperately extra-vigorous workout this afternoon I went to my friendly neighborhood JCPenney to upgrade to some big-boy dress pants, all of which are 60% (give or take) off right now in case you're in the market for new dress pants. Unfortunately, I needed new dress pants that were 60% (give or take) bigger. Which was a 100% (give or take) blow to my ego. But as I waddled up to the checkout counter feeling very dejected and frustrated, the very cute, very friendly, very too young to remember "Sunday in the Park with George" clerk greeted me with a huge smile and chatted my ear off and laughed way too enthusiastically at my feeble attempts at humor. And I'm either way too out of practice to tell for sure or for sure way too delusional to know better, but I think he was ... flirting with me. Which would have lifted my spirits but I'm old and cynical and now too fat for all my dress pants but one so I didn't buy one second of his couldn't-possibly-be flirting. Not one. Not even enough to write a huge post about it on Facebook. Nope. Not one. (Giggle. Hair toss.)
But! I went right from Girth & Flirt to get my hair cut and the haircut lady cut my hair exactly the way that I like it. Which is a concrete, measurable way to lift my saggy, droopy, every-pair-but-one spirits.
And there's no way I'm going back to Girth & Flirt seventeen more times this weekend to see if he asks to check my ID twice again. Because checking my ID twice for one purchase and saying my last name out loud is probably legally-mandated store policy. Besides, going back would just look desperate and awkward. (Giggle. Hair toss.)
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