why does everybody always have to take my picture?
the shirt asks–begs, even–for a response. i don’t usually get one, but today i did. at pinkberry of all places.
i walked up to the counter and placed my order. the guy looked at me and said, “because you’re beautiful.” i was unsure what he was talking about, referring to, or even if he was addressing me.
then i realized.
i was a little taken aback and somewhat shocked. i smiled and looked down as my face began to blush a little.
because i’m beautiful?
i just don’t get it.
and i just don’t believe it.
hair pulled back in a ponytail…somewhat unkempt, grungy-esque work clothes donned, grayish hands discolored from handling so many boxes, no make-up (as if i ever wear any)…i began formulating a list to the contrary.
me, beautiful…today? any other day?
what prompted that guy to say that…to me, a total stranger?
what causes me to respond skeptically to someone–this guy in particular–who responds accordingly?
what makes me not believe him?