Invisible Me

I ALWAYS, almost, get a shower in the morning.

I ALWAYS, almost, do my hair and spray it for the day.

I ALWAYS, almost, put on make up.

I NEVER, almost, wear gardening shorts to the store.

Did you ever just want to run out quickly – fast like a bunny – and pick up something at the store? Not a social event, not a meeting, just a quick jaunt out and back – INVISIBLY!

Recently, I just needed a couple of 6X9 envelopes for mailing books. I think I can accurately say that I have gone to our local Target 45 times and NEVER seen anyone I knew.  As far as anyone was concerned, I was not there.  I went in, looked around, bought what I needed and left again – all without seeing a soul I knew.

But no, the one day this year that I went, not showered with straight as a stick hair.  (People often ask if I’m feeling sick when my hair is straight, that’s why I ALWAYS, almost, curl it.) With no make up to cover the many imperfections and scars from way too much sun poisoning all my life, and wearing less than flattering shorts with an equally unflattering top – I was recognized.

“Are you Mrs. Walls?”

Looking around to see who else was there, my first response was to say,  “NO!”

That’s what I wanted to say, but the young bearded man was so polite, I confessed.  I didn’t recognize him at all.  But lo, when he was just a teen, before he was old enough to shave, he worked in the warehouse where I was supervisor.

I just wanted to crawl under the table and look invisible.  Instead, after a pleasant but brief conversation, I went to the car and as I was putting the key in the ignition, my friend, by the same name walked right in front of my car.

Having no more sense than the man in the moon, and before I could stop myself, I honked my horn.  SHE DIDN’T RECOGNIZE ME. Great – it’s not a good sign when a little bit of spray in a bottle and makeup on the face makes that much difference. Still, we had a wonderful time catching up with each other’s lives.

However, the next time I’m tempted to walk out the door like a spring chicken, I need to rethink things!  You young chicks are beautiful when you wake up after you’ve wrestled a pillow and haven’t had a chance to wash your face.  At my age though, I need to take a minute, or even two, to get ready before I leave the house.  Call it vanity, call it wisdom, call it anything you like, but I have been reminded:




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