Today did not start well. First I woke up feeling like I hadn't slept and with a sore throat. Not too bad though--just not great. I get to work and check my email. At 9:15 I was soundly rejected by an agent. Not just any agent but the one who had asked to see my manuscript. She didn't just reject my query, she rejected my book. Which in some ways is worse that being rejected personally, it's like having your thoughts and soul rejected. Nice.
The universe has a way of balancing things out though. This is going to show how shallow I really am and also how very little it takes to truly please me!
At about 1:37 pm I am sitting at my desk at work and hear someone at the door. Since there is no one at the front desk it is my duty to see who has blessed us with their presence. I see the paper products delivery man. I direct him to where the paper needs to be placed, which is kind of in my office because I have the incredible luck to have a cozy cubby in the copy/work room!
He places the paper and stands up and tells me with a marked Spanish accent that I am beautiful He actually says, "You are beautiful." I of course say a stunned, "Thank you." He then asks--and I am not lying here, I swear. "Are you married?" I think I gave an un-beautiful guffaw and say, "Yes"--holding up my left hand to show my wedding band. No one ever asks me if I'm married, I look married, I have married written all over my face. Then I add, unnecessarily, "and I have 5 kids." I look like I have 5 kids, I have five kids written all over my body.
He says again, "You are beautiful." It's true I could not have made this up. I sign the work order--very gracefully, just like Angelina Jolie would. He honestly kind of whispers about 5 more times, "so beautiful," as he picks up his stuff to leave. It was a little creepy but mostly deeply satisfying.
To many of you who are blessed with this kind of attention this may not seem like a big deal. To me this was a red banner day! The last person to hit on me was a hairdresser in Portland Oregon 20 years ago and I'm not sure if he liked me or just wanted to prove he liked women. Plus, the only people that compliment me on my looks are related to me and you know--they kind of have to.
The paper products deliver man thought I was single, beautiful and he didn't call me ma'am, which is what everyone else calls me these days. I don't care if he was portly and a few inches shorter--to me he will always be young Antonio Banderas.