Eliza Hodgkins 1812
03-14-2005, 08:56 PM
There I sat on a bench outside of the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf after work, sipping my green tea and enjoying another witty chapter of Vanity Fair. I was dressed up for work in a snug sweater fitted over a floral blouse and a brown eyelet skirt from Banana Republic, brown shoes to match and my glasses giving me a bookish accent.
I looked every bit the part of a girl who likes to sit by herself in public, ignoring the public, whilst reading a good book and drinking her tea. In other words, I looked exactly like what I normally look like in public, except better dressed this time. Even my hair was down. Down and combed!
I also looked all things proper and grown up; at least, I assume that's how I looked based on what happened next. A young guy who walked by me, vigorously swearing into his cell phone. "Nobody likes their fvcking boss. Everybody hates their fvcking boss." He was probably in his mid to early 20's. He was loud and audacious. I happened to look up at him right as one "fvck" slipped out of his mouth, and because I was torn from a particularly dishy passage in my book, I must have given him a look of annoyed surprise, which he mistook for the gaping 'O' mouth of matronly disapproval. All that was missing was an audible gasp and an, "Upon my word, young man!"
My disapproving look, I assure you, looks a lot like my face is collapsing in on itself, my eyes narrowing, my forehead transforming itself into the coat of a Shar-Pei puppy. I was fairly certain I appeared as I was, interrupted but without really caring.
Instead, he walked a couple of more steps ahead, too fast in his movement to come full stop at the time his brain first issued the command. He then, without excusing himself from the phone call, steps back towards me, faces me and opens his arms in a broad and welcoming gesture, and says, “Oh my God, I am so sorry! So sorry!” I smiled and shook my head. Prim and proper, proper and prim. I was actually touched that he suffered apoplexy over a few cuss words he thought he’d uttered too loudly, and to my great chagrin.
What a charming rouge, I thought. The rake! The adorable cad! He thought his cussing offended me, hah-hah.
And then it occurred to me that once again, some youngster just a *few* years younger than my no longer youngster years condescended to treat me like a goddamned grown-up. Like a “ma’am”. Like he’d been caught cussing by his grandmamma, the bastard!
I wish I’d had the presence of mind to say, “Don’t fvcking worry about it, buster!”
Then again, living in the often impolite society of today, his unexpected apology was more a breath of fresh air than anything else. Someone raised him right enough to care. He freely uses the sailor speak I love, but had the presence of mind to recognize that others in his surrounding may not feel the same.
Still, I’d rather not be treated like a nun in the future, thank you very much. I kinda wish he'd looked at me and recognized the inner-sailor within.
I looked every bit the part of a girl who likes to sit by herself in public, ignoring the public, whilst reading a good book and drinking her tea. In other words, I looked exactly like what I normally look like in public, except better dressed this time. Even my hair was down. Down and combed!
I also looked all things proper and grown up; at least, I assume that's how I looked based on what happened next. A young guy who walked by me, vigorously swearing into his cell phone. "Nobody likes their fvcking boss. Everybody hates their fvcking boss." He was probably in his mid to early 20's. He was loud and audacious. I happened to look up at him right as one "fvck" slipped out of his mouth, and because I was torn from a particularly dishy passage in my book, I must have given him a look of annoyed surprise, which he mistook for the gaping 'O' mouth of matronly disapproval. All that was missing was an audible gasp and an, "Upon my word, young man!"
My disapproving look, I assure you, looks a lot like my face is collapsing in on itself, my eyes narrowing, my forehead transforming itself into the coat of a Shar-Pei puppy. I was fairly certain I appeared as I was, interrupted but without really caring.
Instead, he walked a couple of more steps ahead, too fast in his movement to come full stop at the time his brain first issued the command. He then, without excusing himself from the phone call, steps back towards me, faces me and opens his arms in a broad and welcoming gesture, and says, “Oh my God, I am so sorry! So sorry!” I smiled and shook my head. Prim and proper, proper and prim. I was actually touched that he suffered apoplexy over a few cuss words he thought he’d uttered too loudly, and to my great chagrin.
What a charming rouge, I thought. The rake! The adorable cad! He thought his cussing offended me, hah-hah.
And then it occurred to me that once again, some youngster just a *few* years younger than my no longer youngster years condescended to treat me like a goddamned grown-up. Like a “ma’am”. Like he’d been caught cussing by his grandmamma, the bastard!
I wish I’d had the presence of mind to say, “Don’t fvcking worry about it, buster!”
Then again, living in the often impolite society of today, his unexpected apology was more a breath of fresh air than anything else. Someone raised him right enough to care. He freely uses the sailor speak I love, but had the presence of mind to recognize that others in his surrounding may not feel the same.
Still, I’d rather not be treated like a nun in the future, thank you very much. I kinda wish he'd looked at me and recognized the inner-sailor within.