Friday, October 14, 2011
"Weren't you a model?"
I'd just stepped into a convenience store. Coming down with a terrible cold (yup, it's caught me). Nose streaming. Eyes streaming, too: with my specs on, not my contacts. Not a lot of makeup. Wearing a B-list suit: not expensive when new, now kinda baggy. And on my way to a pretty sad event: open house to honour a long time colleague, now in palliative care.
Not feeling my best, that's for sure. And not thinking I was looking my best, either.
So: no way that clerk could be speaking to me. And I kept looking through the gum rack for my fave, Dentyne Fire. Really cinnamony.
"You look so familiar. Magazine work?"
I looked around. Nobody else in the store. And the clerk was smiling at me.
So I smiled back, just a little. "Uh. No. Never a model. But thanks anyhow. Not something people ask too often, when you're sixty years old."
"Sixty??" She really did look surprised. And then she added, "It's the way you carry yourself. You move like a model. I was sure I'd seen you before. Modelling. "
Now I beamed at her.
"You've made my day, actually. Thank you!"
"Well," she told me. "I really did think I recognized you as a model. And I always tell myself, if you've got something nice to say, you might as well say it."
Yeah!! I'll remember that!!