I realize I'm not what most people would pick out of a crowd as being 'eccentric' because I by and large don't dress particularly strangely. Every now and then I will go out in public wearing something that inspires a double-take in a stranger--like my kilt--but other than that I'm pretty well just a standard-issue jeans-and-sneakers kinda girl. Even when I wear skirts it manages to be very neutral. But... the only reason I don't wear the cute little tutu-style skirts little girls are wearing today? THEY DON'T MAKE THEM IN GROWNUP SIZES!!! Except that I've dropped about thirty pounds since I moved last year (actually, probably more since I don't own a scale and haven't been weighed since before the new year when I had a doctor appointment), so today I went and tried on a skirt from the girl's department at work. It was a girl's XL. It fit! IT FIT MY SIZE FIFTY BUTT. Mostly because it had no constrained hip measurements, being a tutu and all. I bought it. Fuck the police, I'mm'a wear mah silver tutu in public if I want!
And I bought a t-shirt with a screen print of the famous 'subway vent' scene from Marilyn Monroe's 'Seven Year Itch' because I love Marilyn. She be mah homegirl, yo word muh homies. Wow, am I white or am I WHITE?? Geezis...
In other news, a man came into the store today who looked absolutely uncannily like Douglas Henshall from 'Primeval'. A bit of a chunky Douglas Henshall, but he had the same eyes and hair and even was scruffy like he was too busy chasing dinosaurs this weekend to shave. I tried not to stare or sound like a creep so I didn't say anything, but it was pretty jarring when he came to my till and had a pronounced New York accent and not a Scottish one. It just didn't fit.
Weird moment at work: kids are a common feature in my store. I'm used to them and their varied behaviours and don't notice them unless they're doing something extreme and bizarre and dangerous. Since I'm also Mary Sunshine, they stick me at the first till right by the door (so I can say hello and smile charmingly at customers), which also happens to be right by the group of mannequins we use for display. Almost without exception, kids fucking love the mannequins and go up and poke them and try to play with them. They especially love the dog. Old Navy used to--and some still--sell dog accessories, collars, toys, and the like, so most stores have a dog mannequin. Kids fucking LOVE the dog. They pet him and sometimes they name him. So when the two-year-old daughter of my customer was interested in the dog, it was par for the course. And then she did something I have never seen another child do. She got down on her hands and knees and started groping the dog mannequin right where its genitals would be if it had any. I mean she was actively reaching, poking, prodding, getting down and looking--sometimes kids do shit that's misinterpretable or ambiguous but this child was at it with the authority of a vet or a dog breeder. There was absolutely no mistaking it--that little girl was trying to find that dog's penis. Her mother was horribly embarrassed but the kid would NOT be deterred from her search. I damn near gave myself a facial hemorrhage trying not to laugh.
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