So Apparently, I Look Amazing (Or: These Skinny Jeans are Grossly Unprofessional)

Today I went to one of our local high schools to rehearse with some budding instrumentalists in preparation for an upcoming solo competition.  I was supposed to get there at 3:30, but left late, and when I got there all of the outside doors were locked.  It was 3:45 by the time I got into the building, and I puffed into the orchestra room with an apology on my lips that was never uttered.

When I walked in, the teacher and three students who were there looked at me, then went back to what they were doing.  I stood there for a while, waiting for them to take a break in their lesson so I could figure out what was going on, but no such opportunity arose.

For 12 minutes.

I stood there for 12 minutes and waited for someone to acknowledge me.  I was furious.  I was very close to just picking up my stuff and leaving when the teacher said, "I don't know, she was supposed to be here at 3:30."

"Did you mean your accompanist?" I said (a bit loudly, but I'm sure I was not rude.  Mostly.).  "That's me."  What followed was a flurry of apologies and their explanation:

THEY THOUGHT I WAS A STUDENT.


Seriously.  They thought I was a high school student.  We practiced and, after many more apologies, I left.  I thought it was odd but, well, whatever.

Then I went to Wal-Mart where I purchased some health food items that apparently can no longer be sold to minors.  The cash register prompted the cashier to ask for ID.  I smiled at her.  She smiled back at me.  I smiled more.  She looked at me expectantly.

"Do you want to see my ID?" I finally asked incredulously.

"Yes, please," she replied.

"I'm 36," I said.  I was dumbfounded.  "That's 18 x 2."

"Still, I need to see it," she said.  It was with a great sense of ironic pleasure that I showed her my license and accepted the disbelief on her face as a compliment.

I either need to stop wearing these jeans or wear them CONSTANTLY.

-Fin.