So I was strolling around Sam’s Club, pushing Emma through the aisles in the cart. I’d passed by all the samples, until we hit the mini eclairs. So I hand one to Emma, and then take one for myself. And just as I’m shoving it in my mouth I hear, “Hello, Michelle.” Which of course makes me pause, cause I’m so used to Shelli now.
I turn around. It’s Bill! Wait, no, it’s not my close friend-almost-more-at-one-point. But he kinda looks like Bill. Cute, goatee, a little extra padding. And all I can think is…I haven’t showered, I’ve got an eclair in my mouth, and I’m officially wearing stretch pants (which I’d given up after high school, because I realized they weren’t flattering on curvy people) Well, technically I’m wearing yoga pants from Victoria’s Secret, but they sure don’t keep my cottage cheese thighs a secret.
“So what have you been up to? Besides getting published?”
Whoa, haven’t seen this guy in 11 years and he knows I’m published? He reminds me that I posted it on classmates.com (great promo tool, use it!) Then he said he’s been meaning to buy one of my books and read it, which of course made me go all kinds of red. Fortunately he said he doesn’t read romances, and I told him he probably shouldn’t read my book (Yeah, way to go Shelli, keep talking people out of buying your book. You’ll be up there with Nora in no time!)
Meanwhile, Emma’s face is sufficiently coated in chocolate as she casts bored stares at the guy. Which, I also couldn’t remember his name, or somewhat had an idea. So I had to do the ‘remind me of your name, isn’t it…’ Nice. Smooth. I’ve come so far since high school.
Which is what sucks about the whole situation, because I have! I was a bona fide geek. I excelled in choir, tried to be a drama geek (I did become a thespian) and I dressed horrid. I used to wear spandex, stretch pants, big shirts with Indians or endangered species on them. And had a short Sideshow Bob haircut and glasses. I just wasn’t cute. It took a few years into college, with some help from people determined to make me cute, but I got my stuff together. I’m a lot cuter now–I’m no glamour girl, but I’m not what I used to be.
I wasn’t ready to face the 1o year HS reunion last year, and fortunately had an excuse with a coinciding writer’s workshop (Deb Dixon’s GMC and The Hero’s Journey. Great workshop!) So running into a guy, who I think loved to tease me in elementary school, looking just as lame as I did back then. Man, what a bummer! *Grin*
BUT he did tell me he opened a restaurant, so I could always try and not look so fugly one day and drop by. And no (stop it you matchmakers!) not to flirt, he’s probably taken or married. And I didn’t check for a ring because I’m not dating until Emma is 12. Because by then she’ll be able to talk me out of it again.
Anyway, long ramble. Sorry about that. Must get ready (yes, makeup and cute outfit) for our local RWA chapter holiday party tonight! Woo whoo! See, that’s me. I’m not, by ANY means, one of those people who don’t leave the house without looking their best. I dress up for conference and special occasions. Which is why I have a, ‘Hey nice to see you again. I look like shit’ reunion with people all the time.
Does this happen to you? Or am I the only one?
