Well, early this morning I went to drop off a few letters in the mail. I hadn’t planned on leaving my car for more than a few seconds, so I wasn’t exactly “dressed to impress.” If I’m being completely honest, I was wearing a men’s XL t-shirt that dropped below the hem of my running shorts, my hair was in a ratty bun on top of my head, and I was sporting my old glasses that lay crooked on my face. After my errand, I weighed the pros and cons of dropping into a Starbucks looking the way I did. Since it was early, I decided that the risk factor of running into people was low, so I took the plunge. Little did I know, that Starbucks is now the early morning watering hole for young, well-dressed, seemingly successful people. I parked my Toyota Corolla in a spot near a white Range Rover. I looked at myself in the review mirror with disgust, and somehow convinced myself to get out of the car. As I was shutting my door, a man, only a few years older than, me confidently stepped out of his Mercedes, with combed hair and great loafers.
As if floundering in the sea of post-graduate confusion isn’t bad enough, I stood in line, sandwiched between señor loafers and a Mark Zuckerberg in an oversized T-shirt that made me look like I wasn’t wearing pants. As señor loafers ordered his Americano, a young woman in stilettos waltzed in. She asked Zuckerberg if she could squeeze in behind me, as she had to get to a very important meeting. Since I wasn’t feeling the best about myself, I decided I’d at least earn some “good deed points” out of this horrific event, and let her in front of me. She looked at my pant-less outfit with disgust and took her spot in line without even saying thank you. Rather than paying the old-fashion way, with cash, both stilettos and loafers paid via I-phone. They scanned their screens and walked away while I stood there with my Samsung flip-phone thinking I’d just witnessed a scene from Back To The Future. Once I had ordered, I was forced to stand in coffee purgatory, waiting for my order among the “successful” and the bitchy. The barista called out stiletto’s “skinny, no whip, diet, no fun in life coffee” as I was handed my vanilla late and blueberry muffin. Stilettos gave me a look of disgust and ran out the door as I stood there defeated and a tad bit jealous of the fact she needed to be somewhere. Señor loafers had just finished sugaring his coffee, and had witnessed the deflating exchange. He gave me a “chin up buttercup” kind of look and said, "you must be a helluva girl to let her in front of you; now you go have yourself a good day" and walked out the door.
I took a sip of my coffee and decided that I would take loafers advice, and have myself a good day.