What a Girl
Today on my way to work (still feeling like crap thanks to ongoing allergy problems and no packages in sight to be delivered), I get in the elevator with dude and he is checkin’ himself out in the mirror. Really? (There is a full length one in our elevator). I swear to you he is a better girl that I am! Well, of course, now he’s gone and done it. He’s gotten himself into a conversation with moi and here it is:
Me: What are you doing?
Dude: Just checking out my shirt, I’m not sure if I look good in it.
Me: It looks fine on you.
Dude: But does it fit me right? It doesn’t make me look fat does it?
I roll my eyes. What did he just say???
Me: No, it doesn’t make you look fat. You look good in it. I swear you’re such a GIRL!
Dude: No I’m not. I just want to make sure I look good. You do that.
Me: I know, I’m a girl!
The he just starts laughing at me, like I’M the weird one. Go figure.
Me: You ARE a girl. How come every time you get into the car you gotta fix your hair and check yourself out in the mirror?
Dude: I want to be sure my hair looks good.
Me: I don’t even do that.
Dude: Yes, you do.
Me: NO, I don’t. When have you ever seen me check out my hair in the car.
Crickets. I hear crickets. Complete and total silence. Dude’s got nothin’ on me.
Me: See, told ya. Never.
Then he just gives me a goofy grin.
Me again: Dude, you’re SUCH a girl….