I have this 'thing'. I am looked over, forgotten, ignored, or given the stink eye almost everywhere I go and I'm not the only one who has noticed it. Friends, family, and significant others have all commented, did that just happen? and the answer is always, yup.
Supermarkets, restaurants, pediatrician's office, and retail stores {my favorite tale hails from inside Banana Republic}, it doesn't matter where I am, it happens eight times out of ten. I used to believe that I had a sign that read IGNORE on my head or I just caused people's faces to contort into confused, displeased looks. Then I started to take notes...
While I may be a sole proprietor and a single mother of three who owns a car, lives in a single family home, and has a savings account, I look like I'm ready to join the cheer squad and shop for prom dresses on daddy's credit card. This doesn't please society and it makes for great confusion when I'm with my children or making googly eyes at my favorite guy, who is 14 years my senior.
While I may take all of this into consideration on a daily basis {it's part of the reason why I'm so open to new faces; well, this and I like the shock factor}, it's a fact: people make judgments based upon appearance. I look like I'm babysitting rather than parenting or with my uncle rather than on a date. I look out of place in high end retail stores {what 17 year old has that kind of cash?}, grocery shopping alone {where is her mommy?}, and the OB/GYN's office {she has parts that work?!}. Based on this theory, I do my best to never leave the house without looking at least an eight; hair done, make-up on, and matching shoes.
When I was promised a return phone call from the bank regarding my auto loan, I was a little surprised when 7:30p rolled around last night and I was still waiting. Miss 'you babysit?' Pamela knows I'm fairly successful based on my tax returns, she knows what year I made my worldly debut, how many children I have, and my social security number. What she doesn't know is what I look like, that I was wearing my pajama's when she called, or that I had on yesterday's make-up.
So, now I wonder, has my theory been shot? Is it not an appearance thing? Am I just that forgettable? Or did Miss 'you babysit?' Pamela simply have something better than her job to do?
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