Call Me Maybe?

I'm 38 years old. I can count on one hand the number of times that someone, I didn't know, has said something to me that "wowed" me. Well, that happened to me on Wednesday (2/20/2013) while I was getting lunch.

Let me put this blog in reverse for a moment and backtrack a bit. Recently, due to my weightloss (y'all ain't familiar with that huh?<---sarcasm), I've had to buy some new clothing. Last week, I shopped at Benjamin's of Morganton. I love that store. They have some fabulous duds that will knock your socks off. Believe me, Benjamin's salesperson will try to get you to replace those knocked off socks with their $40 hot pink ones...trust...

ANYWAY, I bought a button-up medium paisley shirt (from the clearance rack) and Wednesday was the first time I wore that incredibly beautiful shirt. Since I cook breakfast every morning and Wednesday we had turkey sausage patties, I placed the freshly pressed (thank you Mark) shirt on the back of the pantry door as I prepped breakfast and cooked in my undershirt. I wouldn't dare want to get grease on my insanely beautiful clothing, right? Mark and I had meticulously picked out the perfect jeans and shoes that looked magnificent with the shirt. After breakfast, I slipped into my paisley shirt, buttoned it up, and was getting my jacket out of the closet as Christian popped around the corner in the kitchen and said "Dad, really? Another shirt that makes you look like Fez from That 70's Show? Well, at least it's better than that awful one last week and you're not wearing red or orange or purple or whatever color pants they were."

One word: Deflated. How do I let a 12 year old that wears camouflage, oversized boots, and a trench coat on the weekends affect me so? It doesn't matter, I rocked out the door of the house and went about my daily routine.

Let me digress no further and get on with the story...
So, where was I? Oh yes, lunch at Ingle's. They have the best salad bar available in Morganton and it even includes an antipasti bar. Can't beat that, huh? I filled my biodegradable container with fresh lettuces, vegetables, fruits, and a touch of caprese and headed over to the salad dressing aisle to pick up a bottle of my favorite dressing to keep at the office. As I'm walking to the checkout, a cute, little, hipster employee wearing a toboggan to cover his nappy hair swaggers over to me in his 19 year old, 145-pounds-soaking-wet way and says, "hey dude". I just knew I was about to be offered some 420 or some meth (yes, I'm aware that I'm profiling, but hey, if the hemp clothing and berkenstocks fit), but instead, I was about to get a truly great boost to my motivation.

In my blog post, "The Plan", I mentioned that some comments inspire and stick with you. This one, no matter how small and irrelevant it seems, will be one of those that I remember. Little 19 year old, 145-pound-soaking-wet, cutey with swagger followed up his "hey dude" with "if you ever want to get rid of that shirt, I've got dibs, k?" and then he winked at me and carried on.

That's it. That's all. I told him "thank you, I'll make sure and remember that" and we both carried on our way. Isn't it shocking how the smallest of things can stick with us?

Anyway, 19 year old, 145-pound-soaking-wet, toboggan-wearing, Ingle's-working, cutey, call me maybe?