Saturday, July 4, 2015


  A text came to me from a strange number asking if I know "where to get green?" I finally got enough info to find that it was a very strange guy that I had a date with a few years ago. I will usually stay friendly with some of these dates simply because we make better friends than mates. He was one, but ended up being a little too spacey for me. Obviously, anyone who knows me well knows that "green" to me only signifies money, of which I never have much of. I'm one of the squarest people out there. It brought to mind some of the misconceptions about myself that I've encountered.
  When I first started dating Bob, he thought I was "rich and liked Whitney Houston". In reality, I was poor and liked Nirvana and Jeff Buckley. Truly mind boggling. I've no idea what gave him that impression. My co-workers, at the time, said I stuck my boobs out when he came into work. However, I just have good posture. I think they only noticed how I acted when I saw him.
  Speaking of boobs, my sister in law mentioned that her husband thought my boobs were fake. I laughed and told him I would've gone bigger if they were. I'm in possession of a great bra. When I lay down, they roll into my sides like pancakes. That's the true sign of real boobs. Fake ones stand at attention. Sometimes I lift them up to where they used to hang. My breasts are the one thing on my body that I don't hate.
  There is the ever present misconception that I'm stupid because I'm blonde. At work, it's most prevalent. That could also be because I'm a woman. I experience blatant sexism from customers. No one ever assumes that I could be a manager. One guy stood at the customer service counter, yet said he didn't need my help. My male co-worker was busy and paged for help. Once again, I asked this guy if he needed help.
  "I'm looking for a manager." he said, impatiently. That's when I get to flash my devilish grin and say "I'm a manager."  His face fell. He was inquiring about a job. I'm sure he felt like an ass. Yes, women can be managers, even blonde ones. Welcome to this century.