As I’m leaving an hour-long tutoring session…
Kid (to her mom): “Mom, you always say I have to take those off (points to nape of my neck) but Miss Emily didn’t!!”
Me (confused): “Wait, what?”
Parent: “Something tells me Miss Emily did not know it was there. And I was going to try to let her leave without embarrassing her, but I guess that’s not happening now.” (opens drawer, grabs scissors, cuts this off my sweater and hands it to me):
Me, to Eric, after a friend commented that my loose “sack” dresses (the only thing I wear in summer) make me look like a grandma: “Does it bother you that I dress comfortably and not sexy?”
Eric: “Babe, are you kidding? Of course not. Wear whatever you want.”
Me: “Awww, that’s sweet. You’re the best.”
Eric: “Yeah. You think I even notice what you wear? I’ve never noticed once.”
Nope stop talking.
Most people just write 2 or 3 words, like “Cocktail Attire” or “Black Tie Optional,” but I thought I’d do us all a favor and leave no room for questions or confusion.
A mom and her small child get into the elevator with me…
Me (to child): “Ooooh! And what are YOU dressed up as for Halloween? Whatever it is, you look awesome!”
Child: <blank, confused stare>
Mom: “Oh she has no idea it’s Halloween. We don’t celebrate it. This is just what she decided to wear today.”
Well then she looks ABSURD.
I tried a new nail salon that just opened up on my block, so the lovely owner gave me the hard sell (in slightly broken English)….
Owner: “We give you 20% off today. And you tell your friends about us? I see you live in neighborhood!”
Me: “I do! But how can you tell?”
Owner: “You carry the Starbuck drink and you wear the clothes for going to gym.”
Me: “Ha! You’re right! I am heading to the gym!”
I’m not. These are my regular clothes.
Damnit, Anthropologie! Stop tricking me into believing I’m a whimsical person.
Just ran into my Super outside the compactor room, which is next to the laundry room.
Super: “Emily, you did laundry yesterday, yes?”
Super: “There were some things left in one of the dryers. I put them on the counter in there, you might want to check if they’re yours.”
Me: “Oh, ok, great! Thank you! They probably ARE mine, that sounds like something I would do.”
I enter the laundry room, and sitting on the counter is a SUPER tiny black lace thong and a pair of ridiculously worn-out cotton underwear that clearly should have been thrown away years ago.
Me (yelling): “Oh my gosh– no, no, no! These are definitely NOT mine!”
Super (laughing): “Oh, ok.”
Me: “I swear! I can be forgetful, but I’d never leave items like THAT lying around!”
Super: “Ok. Somebody else then!”
Me: “How embarrassing for THAT person!”
They are 100% mine.
1:17pm– the point during my work day at which I realized my shirt is on inside out.