As I was cutting fabric away, the little girl standing in front of me slowly open her mouth and said to me, “You’re really pretty miss.” I stop cutting, though my face mask was covering my face, I still smile and told you her thank you. Then I continue to cut away. After the store finally turned quiet, I swear I have heard Cheddar’s paw crawling away in the corner a few time. I got the chance to sat down and catch my breath while the little girl’s words play over in my head.
I stare at my reflection on my phone. Clearly, she must be too naive because I look anything, but pretty and beautiful. I looked like I have been beat down and need a good shower. Plus, these days I don’t wear makeup except for my eyebrows. However, there are days when I’m too lazy to do my eyebrows and this was one of those days. I basically slept in, rolled of out bed, ate leftovers, spray my hair with a sh*t ton dry shampoo before gathering it into a thin ponytail. Then I threw on my old oversized black shirt, blue jeans, and Adidas shoes before going to work. Like, I said I was far off from being pretty.
Children are so nice, or are they? I have no children, but I have friends that do. They often tell me that children speaks the truth-most of the time. However, my friends have also told me that children do not lie about who they think is pretty, ugly, or handsome. One of my friends, told me one time she was a bit upset that her daughter and son told her that Jennie of BlackPink is more pretty than she is. At the same time, she finds the situation hilarious. I also found the situation hilarious as I was being laughing away and wiping my tears.
Throughout my 27 years of life–yes I’m just that old–not a lot of people tells me that I’m beautiful and I’m perfectly fine with that. I don’t yearn for compliments telling me that I’m gorgeous, sexy, or whatever. Instead, I like to hear that I’m intelligent, hardworking, reliable and courageous. I look for comments that makes me want to improve myself. Of course, there was a time–especially when I was young–I really wanted my friends to compliment me about how I look good in a certain pair of shirts or jeans. Even when I wear my hair down–that was a rare golden gem look for me– or the slightest tint of lipstick I did want to hear that I look pretty. However, at some point I didn’t care much for it anymore and I don’t know why.
That night though, I was just so tired and could only think of when all the customers would hurry up out the store. I was cutting fabric after fabric, my employee kept calling me for returns/exchanges, and the phone kept ringing. I needed a break, but I still had to be nice and polite to my customers and communicate with them. So, when she said those little words to me even if she may have not meant it, it made my day a whole lot better. For some reason after she said that, I just thought to myself “It will be a great shift tonight. Just hang in there.”
As I was sitting and relaxing, my employee came to the back and said “That little girl told me to tell you she thinks you’re pretty.” We both laugh and I joke with my employee by responding “I wonder what kind of reflection she sees in me.”