Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

I get a lot of flack because I’m kind of known as a best-friend-slut. I don’t really have a lot of acquaintances so if you’re my friend at all, chances are you’re one of my best friends. They all contribute something different but there is one consistent attribute they all share and that’s honesty. Whether it’s how inappropriate a short dress may be, an obsessive love interest (meaning me being obsessed with someone not vice versa) or a new idea for a future endeavor (i.e. to travel the world as a homeless person for a year)-none of them ever hesitate to give me the truth. It may be delivered in different ways from a gentle suggestion to a blunt, harsh statement but it’s all given with the same intention-love. Right? At least that’s what I tell myself…

Read Full Post »

Two good friends of mine, who will remain nameless, own a baby boutique and once in awhile, if I’m lucky, I get to play small business owner. The morning starts out great. Sometimes on these days I pretend I’m Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail while I get my coffee, wave and say hi to the neighboring businesses and open up “my” for-the-day shop. Side note-the sun has shone every time I’ve ever worked, so you know what that¬†means-I’m making the world brighter. When the mail and UPS men come I smile and chat with them as if we’ve been interacting daily for years and they usually have a look of puzzlement on their faces and sometimes add a “Now, who are you?” to which I respond with only a laugh. Now, because it’s a boutique business the flow of customers isn’t always very constant so after I check my e-mail, facebook, flickr, news and, of course, tmz, it’s time to order lunch. Next, back to business. I shuffle around the store looking for things to fold, straighten, perk up or rearrange with my artful eye. A customer may come in “Hi! Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with”. This is a dangerous line because sometimes, if it comes to details such as designer’s, lines and shoes, it’s hard to help. After I ring someone up the clock shows ¬†4 hours have passed since opening and my eyelids get a little droopy and since the stools behind the counter aren’t very comfortable, the children’s play rug in the corner seduces me to go sit on it (maybe lay on it) until I realize there was a song I wanted to listen to. The mini solo dance party takes the clock to one more hour left before closing time. This is my hour of reflection. I realize I’m happy doing what I do, whatever that may be and as good as I may be at playing the role of store owner , it probably isn’t my cup of tea but I am so grateful that I can check another thing off my list.

Read Full Post »