last friday, I was trying on clothes at urban outfitters when I overheard two employees talking:
"it's my birthday today."
"really? happy birthday! how old are you?"
"um. I don't want to say. you'll laugh."
"oh, come on."
(insert dramatic pause, resigned-sounding exhalation from the birthday girl here)
"hey, that's not too bad. really. now, if you'd said 29. or 30. well..."
people, as I stood in that dressing room half-naked and eavesdropping (ezra flinging lipstick from my purse in every direction), I did not know whether to laugh or to cry.