Duet.

The other day I was in the liquor store buying booze (heh, what's new?)... of course I was carded because the only thing I have that gives away my real age is some sporadic grey- actually metallic silver- hairs. Here I am, all disheveled and fresh out of a full day of school and work, seriously needing a shower, buying a bottle of Jameson and a bottle of Bulleit. And the guy behind the counter looks at my ID and says "That's a good picture of you". Of course the first thing I think is, "Jesus, I must look like shit right now...". It's not a bad photo. But it's not particularly good either. I look pretty goofy in it, a little too happy. Mostly due to the fact that the night before I renewed my license I went out and got blasted on bourbon (duh) and good beer, and was attempting to not be obviously hungover at the DMV. I'm wearing a yellow hoodie, my hair is a little flippy, and there is a glare from the flash off my glasses. I got there hoping they wouldn't take a new photo. The photo previous to this one; that was a good photo. I pretty much begged the woman to let me keep it, to no avail. So yeah, what to think when someone tells you a photo you aren't all that thrilled about is a good one? Other than "Gee, thanks. Glad to not look like my usual ogre self.", I'm not sure.

Had my first instance of blatant racism in a long time today. At work. I was behind the service desk, as per usual. A girl named Tiffany happened to be using one computer at the desk to print something out. Tiffany is a cash office clerk; she does not deal with the public or the store itself or anything. She doesn't know where anything is, or what department carries what. But of course, she's standing there, and though she's not wearing a vest proclaiming her employer, she becomes fair game. An elderly woman comes up and, as I'm on the phone, ropes her into a conversation about whether those ant hotel bait trap things make your house smell. During this time, a middle-aged black woman comes up and gets in line. Now is the time to mention that Tiffany is also black. My phone conversation ends, Tiffany is still telling the elderly woman that the ant hotel will not smell bad, so I smile at the middle-aged black woman and say, "I can help you right here, ma'am!". She looks at me, curls up her lip, and shakes her head. Um. Ok. So then I think, "Well, she's wearing a scrub top- maybe she's a caretaker and is just waiting on the elderly woman who is asking sort of crazy questions...". But then the elderly woman leaves and though Tiffany tries to make her escape back into her cozy little money room with no people, the middle-aged black woman walks up to her and asks her about some sort of rack we used to have (of which Tiffany has no idea, and proceeds to just make something up and send her off to Hardware). So then I think, "Well, maybe they know each other.". After the woman wanders off, I asked Tiffany if she knew her. Nope. And then she laughs about how she had no idea what that woman wanted... then she says "I thought she was with that other old lady since you were standing there and she didn't ask you.". So then I told her how I'd tried to help her, and got shot down. Jokingly I say, "I guess she didn't want to talk to the white girl!" Tiffany just laughed even harder, then told me how she had no idea what she wanted and just sort of sent her off somewhere. Then she says, "That's what she gets for asking the black girl instead; I should have told her it was in Garden! Yeah, just go out those doors, oh yeah, keep going, you'll see it!" Glad I wasn't the only one to see the ridiculousness of that situation. But still... wow.