while browsing for books at the thrift store, I heard this woman (late 30s/early 40s) talking with what appeared to be her mother. said woman was trying on clothes and asking her mother's opinion. tell me you have not been here with someone:
"so, what do you think of this blouse?"
"oh, it's nice... I guess."
"I just really like the color and the sleeves."
"actually, it's not very flattering on you... it's pretty unflattering. no, I'm sorry. it really doesn't look that good on you."
"well, I like it."
"well, I'm not the one that has to wear it, am I? you're the one who has to wear it."
"it's just that, see how modern the sleeves are? and it hits me at the right place here on my hips. plus, this color--"
"like I said, you're the one who has to wear it... out in public."
"well, I don't care. I'M BUYING IT."
I'm guessing that the daughter then makes a hasty, huffy retreat into the dressing room while mother sits with her hands crossed in her lap. I'm dying to turn around and look but resist the impulse. I am sure even the shortest glance will give away my eavesdropping ways. instead, I thumb through old dictionaries and try not to laugh. and I have the strong urge to call my mom.