Being in such a fabulous birthday mood and truly believing this dress was to die for, I stopped dead in my tracks. "You look fantastic." I gushed. "That dress is just divine!"
She stared straight ahead and said a very bored, "Thanks."
Oh hell no.
Now I will never be nearly as attractive as this woman, nor will one of my tree-trunk-esque arms ever pass through the teeny sleeves of her glamorous frock, but on rare occasion, I've been complimented on my look by unbiased yet obviously sartorially savvy strangers. And you'd think I'm competing in a congeniality contest, I react with such sincere joy and delight. I often begin with "You just made my year!" and follow up with something nice about my new friend, their hair, their bag, their goddamn chapstick. Obviously, I'm no Mother Theresa, but I am a huge connoisseur of public restroom etiquette and "Thanks" does not cut it. Not by a long shot.
"Maybe she really had to pee." KG offered.
"Are you kidding?!? Trust me, she had a wait in front of her. It'd take her a good 10 minutes to squeeze her ass outta that dress."
"Well, Beth." KG sighed. "Maybe she's just a bitch."
I'd riled myself back up to the night of the incident. "Oh, there's no maybe about it. I wish I remembered her face. If I ever see her again, I want to be able to give her a little manners lesson."
"She's probably one of those women that's not friends with other women, which she then brags about to other women."
"Oh yeah, those. 'I've just never had close girlfriends.' Please. I mean, really. What? You're just surrounded at the sports bar by all of your hot, straight, platonic guy friends, high-fiving and wondering why women never invite you to themed cocktail nights?"
"She thinks women aren't friends with her because they're jealous of her."
"But they're not."
"No. She's just a bitch."
"Who can't even muster a lovely, smiley, sincere ladies room banter."
"The worst kind."
"Ugh, it's a disgrace."
"Yeah, anyway... Oh my God, I love your bracelet!"