"Oh, don't worry hon... since my second husband left I've been on my own for 11 years. 11 years! Gosh, I asked my friend the other day... is this it? Will I be on my own forever? But heck, you get used to it, ya know? It's comforting. If some man came around now and tried to tell me what to do, shoot, I'd probably smack 'em!"
This from the portrait salesperson this afternoon after I told her that no, there was no husband interested in a set of $500 pictures of myself. But thanks.
Also, thanks for assuming there's no one else and that I don't want there to be anyone else or that I need comforting from a 50-ish woman dressed in bright teal from head to toe. Thanks. Oh so much.
Is that me? In 20 years will I be hawking bad pictures part time while trying (oh-so-unsucessfully) to lift the hearts of women whose family lives are in shambles?
If so, I give up. Honestly, I throw in the towel. Hell, I don't even know where the towel is anymore.
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