My landlord calls me "Sweetie".
I saw him the other day at Wal-mart. I said "Hi!" (fake cheerfulness on my part.) & he said "Hey, Sweetie."
I thought it was odd, but whatever.
So he just stopped by.
I opened the door.
LL - Hey, Sweetie. I just thought I'd drop off your rent receipt in person because I had to be out anyway.
Me - Ok. Have you noticed the people on either side of me are leaving their garbage on the back porch?
LL - No, I hadn't noticed that.
Me - Well, it causes all kinds of stray dogs & cats to come & rip open the bags and get garbage all over the place.
LL - I'll take care of it, Sweetie.
He might as well call me "Perky".
Y'all know that everybody has their "Public" face & their "Private/Among Friends" face.
Apparently, my public face makes people think that I'm sweet...
I'm used to being told that I intimidate people. I don't know how I feel about being thought of as "sweet".
Evan & I went to Wal-mart yesterday.
OMG I can't believe how early it is. I woke up at about 4:45 this morning. (I haven't been taking the sleeping pills. I still get to sleep at about 11:40 or so, but I seem to be waking up earlier every day.)
Where was I?
There were no electric carts, so Evan had to push me in a wheelchair.
After we paid for our stuff, I went to the bathroom.
When I came out, he was sitting in the wheelchair.
Me - Let me see if I can push you. (I can walk as long as I'm holding onto something like my walker or a cart, but Wal-mart is SOOOOOOOO BIG I start sweating & my "special leg" starts quivering up a storm if I walk around too long.)
He - OK!
So the Evil Bitch Greeter from Hell was standing at the door.
She looked at us like "Those wheelchairs are not toys!!!"
I wish she had said something.
It's about 200 ft from the bathroom to the front door, so not far enough for me to get tired walking. And I knew that Evan would enjoy being pushed around for a change instead of being the pusher, nodamene.
I hate that greeter.
Everyone else who works there is SO NICE. If they don't see Evan, they ask where he is. They get the electric carts ready for me before I even get into the store.
The Evil One just looks like she hates everyone. She's one of those women who would have a head full of gray hair if she didn't dye it jet black. She's 4 feet tall. She looks like a witch. And she's practically deaf. I have to YELL AT HER to ask her if there's anything wrong with the electric carts or whatever. I prefer not to talk to her at all.
But I really wish the bitch would have said something to me yesterday.
I believe I'd have gotten very "ethnic" in about .2 seconds.
She's a hater.
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