In Which I Flatter Myself

I like to think that I look younger than my years. It’s a harmless, pleasant fantasy that keeps me in a good mood. But every now and then, something comes along to shatter the delicate shell I keep around my ego. You wouldn’t do that , would you?

I didn’t think so. And that makes The Incident this week all the more annoying. Here’s a tip: If you want me to buy magazines from your 50 year old ass, do not take a quick look at me for the first time ever and then refer to me as your mother. This really happened. Sometimes I think you don’t believe the things I’m telling you here , so lucky for you that my Ring doorbell camera captured it.

You could tell this is going to be an event just from that knock, right? There’s a part 2 to this encounter where the solicitor and I get into an argument about whether or not he should be soliciting in a non-soliciting neighborhood but I’ll spare you that one.* That’s another tip: if you want someone to buy something from you, don’t get into a fight with them.

*Now that I’m thinking about it, I actually did sort of act like his mother when he was trying to give me the baloney how he had permission and I refused to let him wriggle away, point by point,  by calling him out on his bullshit. Apparently, I’m highly the suggestable type. I hope someone comes to the door today to tell me I look like a lottery winner.

Life in the suburbs can be rough if you are a hermit that wants to be the boss of their own time but mostly just wants to avoid being annoyed.  Also, I get all the magazines I want for free by taking quizzes about recycling at recyclebank.com 

2 thoughts on “In Which I Flatter Myself”

  1. Common courtesy is dead and people feel free to say all sorts. And folks coming to the door talking about “work programs”. Please! I’m dead tired of that mess.

    I have the same pleasant, harmless delusions… or did, until I hit 60. The trick to maintaining our serenity is to stay away from reflective surfaces…

  2. Well since you no longer have to deal with the panhandlers on the subway it’s only fair that they come a knock-knocking on your door.

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