It brings me great pleasure to put a smile on a stranger's face. I can recall moments I have shared with complete strangers, dating back ages ago, and still find myself grinning, laughing, and reminiscing.
I can not enter an AC Moore, Forever 21 or a DSW without striking up conversation with at least one person. I've exchanged craft ideas with middle aged women, had a gay guy at Forever help me pick out my outfit for the weekend, and a girl at DSW tell me that I HAD to get those heels, just in case I needed them for NYE this year. It's AUGUST, I don't need them, but I needed her to give me the justification! And don't get me started on the amount of times I should have been paid by a store for assisting a customer to find the shoe department, a top in their size, or most recently, the de-wormer at PetCo.
Last Friday, I managed to break my glasses. I have NO idea how I pulled that one off, but this isn't going to be about my drunken night out. This week, I stopped in at the optical department at Target where a nice man told me that he would only charge me a measly million dollars to repair them for me. Considering his joking tone, I had a feeling he wouldn't make me pay a dime, and he hadn't even asked if I got my glasses there. [I hadn't.]
Friday night of this week, I was so sick of wearing my contacts and my old glasses that Dexter used as a chew toy that I made it back in the store. The same guy was there and in less than 2 minutes my glasses were repaired, free of charge. He was "just happy to help." Maybe the store doesn't have a button on their register for glasses repair, or a cost for one tiny screw. I know that the guy didn't go out of his way to fix these for me, and he was just doing his job, but he still made my day. I thought I would have to buy a whole new pair of glasses before I could begin to get these ones fixed.
I expressed my gratitude and proceeded to hit up the popcorn stand at Target. [If you go to Target and you don't get popcorn, a hot dog or Pizza Hut personal pie while you're there, YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG.]
On my way out, I bought a $10 "thank you" gift card and went back over to the vision center. I suppose the gentleman was in the back office, I was so happy, because I quickly tossed it on his side of the counter and walked away. I had noticed his name on his badge earlier, and signed it with my name... so he would definitely know it was for him. He may not even put two and two together that I'm Ashley, the girl whose glasses he had repaired moments ago. I just hope that with the gift card, he treated himself to some popcorn, too. Maybe he even bought some for his co-workers, who knows. Scott may not have been phased by my thank you gesture, but his kindness made my day.
I imagine that on Friday there were a few people who annoyed me, too. There's always the person holding up the line, slowing down traffic, or doing something that seems so irritating at the moment but is insignificant in retrospect. The people I want to remember two days later, and continue to meet for the rest of my life, are the ones like Scott. Shouldn't we all?
oh my god, you KNOW her?
Today, just when I thought the world couldn’t get any
smaller, it did.
My co-workers and I were talking about how I broke up with my
ex [what a disaster] and they asked where’s that GEM living now?
“Oh, who is he living OFF of? A nice girl named ------. She
went to Cornell… she seems fantastic.”
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| yes, he is the angry emoji. |
And then my friend’s jaw dropped.
Turns out they went to high school together. Since she’s a good friend to me, she assured me I’m prettier and
better and all of the above… girl code, ya know. That’s not my point. None of
that actually MATTERS.
What struck me to write today is the fact that a few weeks
ago, my ex started texting me. I’ll share with you the short
version.
I kept my distance… this all happened into the late hours of
Saturday night. It wasn’t until Tuesday when we were supposed to meet that I
got out of work, got home, and decided to call him. I wasn’t going to text back
and forth or wait to see if he ignored me and changed his mind. Actually
dialing his number was the most aggressive approach I could really take to just
get it over with.
THAT LITTLE PRICK BLOCKED MY NUMBER.
Mind you, we’ve been split up since December. That’s NINE
MONTHS of being apart; hardly speaking and choosing to look the other way when
we saw each other in public. During the course of those nine months, way back in January
or so, I was infuriated with the amount of money that he owed me and continued
to spend on his new girlfriend, new clothes, trips to places we had been
together (that I paid for when we went). Clearly I was sour about it, but the
bottom line was I wanted my money. To this day I am working two jobs to pay off
someone else’s debt. It’s my fault for trusting him and choosing to help him,
but regardless, it bit me in the ass and I’m allowed to be annoyed about it every once in
awhile.
Well, in my attempts to chase him for money VIA text and
voicemail, he blocked my number. Which was for the best. However, one day he
started texting me. This means he made an effort to block my number, then
unblock it and contact me on a pretty consistent basis, and then proceed to tell me he
misses me and needs to see me, and then BLOCK MY NUMBER again. If anyone should
be blocking anything, SHOULDN’T IT BE ME?
There is no one on the planet who gets under my skin more than this kid. But I have been pretty successful with not letting him get to me since I broke up with him. I had a pathetic, rough month after the initial break up. I felt hopeless... I am the one who ended it, but if you didn't know this already, girls want you to put up a fight for them. And he did. But then he stopped and I was a basketcase. I invested a lot in this relationship. In fact, the break up involved me taking all of his stuff out of the moving truck we had packed to move into our new apartment THE NEXT DAY. It was a game time decision. I had my reasons and knew that last minute was certainly better than never.
Back to the phone number thing. Does it make any sense to you yet? Because the only reason I can come up with is that he got in over his head. I'd like to say he knew that he'd be in deep with his girlfriend if she saw what he had been saying, or that she made him cut all ways of contact with me. That would require the girl having balls, a back bone, some dignity or self-respect... to think she is worthy of a guy who is committed to her, but able to forgive this mistake. She may be crazy, but at least she'd be confident.
Ladies and gentlemen, it's safe to say that she lacks all those qualities.
Here's where I made another game time decision. Maybe not the best one, but not one that I regret. I wasted about 15 minutes of my night (okay, that's the part that I regret) and took screen shots of everything he said to me. THE WHOLE CONVO. Obsessive, maybe... but this needed to be in black and white, with no room for interpretation. I sent them all to her on Facebook. [Oh, the drama on Facebook, I know, I know.] All that I included in the message was "here ya go" with the screen shots.
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| no future with her. SHE'S LUCKY. |
That was it. I needed to walk away. Whatever came of her seeing the messages wouldn't affect me. I didn't care to know. Their relationship ending or a fight occurring or ANYTHING would have no direct affect on me, so I didn't care what came of it. His hardships don't bring me happiness. I don't think he deserves much, but where would I be if he had any impact on me, nine months later? What kind of person would I be if I thrived on that? No one I want to be.
Except then I got to thinking. What do you expect? If she read it, I didn't really want her to reply. I would respect her more if she just took it for what it was worth. We don't even know each other, we didn't need to talk or argue. But what if she didn't even see it? For all the trouble he has put me through, I needed to do this. Call it immature, call it crazy, I don't care. It was nothing compared to the constant battles I faced while dating him.
So of course I resent it. "I was concerned you didn't see this :)." I know, what a BITCH. Who cares.
 |
| the happy couple |
"I wish I wasn't single, I'm SO lonely and pathetic that I wish I had a boyfriend who told other girls he still loved them and knows he made the wrong choices! I HAVE TO GET MYSELF ONE OF THOSE SO I CAN CHANGE MY PROFILE PICTURE ASAP."
Yep. BITCHES ARE CRAZY. He's your problem now, sweetcheeks.
kill em' with kindness.
This week, I decided that I am going to put forth a conscious effort to make zero attempts to offer a simple greeting or smile while facing those who NEVER return the gesture. So far, I have failed miserably. I am 100% certain that it requires more effort to be impolite to someone than to just shoot them a smile. Why is it that so many people I encounter act like it would actually KILL them to be kind?
Maybe you are thinking “they just don’t like you.” That may very well be the case. But considering that they’ve never said hello to me, how have they already passed judgment? We are all guilty of it; we judge a book by its cover, and form opinions on both people and things without knowing anything first hand. But it doesn’t make it RIGHT.
First impressions prove me wrong time and time again. The nicest person can be the most deceiving, but the most intimidating person can very well be the most genuine. It is not our right to define a person. The girl who may be the cruelest to some may be the most loving person to another.
I don’t think anyone should fight anyone else’s battles, and I don’t base my opinion on people or things off of what others say – I’m my own person and have my own feelings, I will make up my own mind.
One time in high school, I passed a classmate who was a friend-turned-enemy in the hall. Out of habit, since we were friends probably days before, I shot her a HUGE smile and waved at her. The look on her face was PRICELESS. It infuriated her more than any kind word ever could have. And what could she say about that? “That bitch SMILED at me, who does she think she is?”
Actually, I guarantee that she said that… but that’s for another time.
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