Kel (ladyjoust) wrote,

  • Mood:

I am a dork

On Friday, I went to the dry cleaner's. There's only so much I can do with my own washer/dryer/nonexistent skills with an iron, and I want Don to have a few nicely cleaned and pressed shirts at the ready for when he needs to meet a client. I handed over my pile o' laundry and, assuming my part was done, waited for my ticket, already thinking ahead to the massive piles of bills and filing that waited for me at home. "What kind of starch?" the woman behind the counter asked.

"uuuuuuuhhhhh," I flipped through my mental files and, finding an alarming paucity for 'starch,' squeaked, "corn?"

Okay, I didn't actually say that, but I thought it, and it was fairly clear that the woman behind the counter knew. "Light, medium or heavy?" she asked, kindness and compassion and, perhaps, a smidge of pity in her voice.

"Light?" I ventured. Only two more guesses; I really wanted to get this right.

I really thought she was going to pat my hand. Instead, she smiled a little, nodded, and made a note. It might have said, "light starch," but I rather suspect it actually read, "be nice to this one. she's a bit special."

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