Did he really just ask me that?

Today, my supervisor gave us a list of stuff to do before we left.  It was a long list that mainly consisted of heavy lifting, which I can’t do.  That left me with the “clean the bird poo off the vanity mirror signage” assignment.  Not a task I was excited for.  I slipped my wedding ring off and put on some no so fashionable latex gloves.

I went over to the appliance department to get the cleaning supplies when a spotted two customers and no sales associate.  They needed help, so I paged for Ric to return to his department.  While I waited for Ric’s arrival, the customer (a male in his late thirties or early forties) told me what he was looking for.  I tried to look at our displays and identify the right product.

While I’m looking, he asked me, “Did it hurt?” Oh no.  I know where this is headed. “Did what hurt.”  “Did it hurt when you fell out of heaven?”  Did he seriously just ask me that question. “Yes!”  I continue looking for the product, hoping that I just shut him up.  Nope.  “Someone as beautiful as you has to be heavenly.”  Dang it!  My ring is in my pocket.  This guy can seriously not be finding these latex gloves attractive. Give me a break!  “Thank you.  My husband thinks so, too.” He stares at me while I look for the product.  “I don’t see your wings, so you must not be an angel. You must be a goddess.”  Wow. This guy doesn’t quit. I wish I had thought of a quick come back like, “Are you practicing your lines for the bar, because these aren’t working?”  Instead, I just said, “Thanks.  Ric will be here in a minute to help you,”  and walked off.

I was so relieved to go clean bird poo.