Day – Monday Mood - Feisty Weather – Gusty, wig blew off
Slouching, in the queue, at my local grocery store, I observed the beauteous creature ahead of me, and the remarkably elevated level of service she received from the goggle-eyed assistant. When my turn came, he slumped back into his usual level of indolence and eyed me with disinterest; the eye that denotes that anyone over a certain age is invisible. (You dig?)
“I may be post-menopausal,” I quipped, “but I too, deserve good service.”
(This comment sailed above his head.)
“Wha…at?” He looked at me confused, “meno-what?”
“Yes, thank you,” I hissed, “I’ll have a bottle of it!”
He looked bewildered, “a bottle of what?”
“A Bottle of Meno-What (Meno-stop?)” I repeated firmly. “You suggested it.”
He looked round again, confused, “huh?”
“A VERY large bottle – you might need to order it in?
(At any age you have to find your fun where you can.)