She's actually a regular at the shop, and despite that blip that was that match-making fiasco, I do enjoy it when she comes in. She has this great catty personality where you think you're going to receive a compliment, then pow! You're actually at one end of a criticism!
Today, when I was ringing her up, I mentioned how some of the previous workers actually were engaged. One of the girls was even getting married the next day. I told her how sweet it was that the previous group of gals were on the same time line. She agreed too, only there it was--pow!
"Yes," she agreed, while I put her sweater into a bag. "It's like everyone's getting engaged." I nodded along from where I was on the floor, wrapping newspaper around some breakable household bric-a-brac. "Everyone but you," she added. Pow! There it was.
I was at a loss for words, unsure because I thought we were having a pleasant conversation and unsure of what I was allowed to say back. "Yeah," I said faintly, smiling hard.
"I tried to set you up with my nephew," she continued a little primly, and I cursed myself for having to wrap everything so slowly. "But you weren't interested."
I'm still not interested, but that seemed rude to point out.
She went on about this nephew who enjoyed snowboarding and had his own house and how he was just shy around girls. How he liked going to Colorado for vacations and how he really enjoyed vacations.
To all this, I replied that it sounded like a lot of activities. I remember using that word, "activities," like it was distasteful in the extreme. I wrinkled my nose for effect.
But she wasn't to be dissuaded or put out about me, a shop girl who had the audacity to throw this perfectly fine opportunity in her face.
A tense silence settled on us. Our time was slowed down, while everyone in reality cheerfully looked through the clothes racks and went about their merry lives. But somehow, I needed to break this tension. I needed to have the last word.
"Yeah," I went on, "But I can't be tied down!"
There. That sounded good and solid. That didn't seem to jibe at her snowboard-loving nephew. She seemed surprised at this. "I don't want you to be tied down..." she replied unsure.
"I can't be tied down!" I repeated in a louder, more commanding tone.
Her packages were wrapped now, her purchases in a bag. She took them and left, but not before I wished her a wonderful weekend in the most cheerful voice manageable.