To quote Larry David, only 2 kinds of people wear sunglasses inside: blind people and assholes. I, it turns out, am an asshole. I just ran down to SuburbaMarket to grab something for lunch and finding not only a fabulous parking space right in front, but money in the meter, I swooped in and grabbed my favorite Chinese Chicken Salad and a Diet Snapple. In my haste, I did not remove my sunglasses. This was not meant as some sartorial urban jab at the trophy wives congregated by the prepared foods section, although as I grabbed my pre-made salad, I became aware that sunglasses inside SuburbaMarket is not kosher with the Baby Bjorn crowd.
“Nice sunglasses, honey. Too bright in here?”
I stopped dead in my tracks. Is this bitch talking to me? Oh, hell no. I looked over to find a soccer mom, the kind that wears her tennis whites to jury duty, staring at her friend but clearly rolling her eyes at me and my stupid glasses.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“Oh, uh, nothing. I just like your sunglasses.”
Hey Fifi, if you wanna dance, let’s go. Otherwise, shut your pie hole and mind your business.
I decided my passive-aggressive, over apologizing tactic was in order.
“Oh, god. I’m sorry. I’m such a dork, wearing my sunglasses inside. You’re absolutely right. What kind of person does that? Thank you for calling me on it. Oh, how embarrassing.”
“Oh, no, no, no.” She whined. “I didn’t mean to…” She trailed off, and hastily moved to another section of the store.
I stood there holding my salad and feeling like an idiot. Stupid Spots, I thought. I should’ve just pretended I was blind…