Do I Look Like I Work Here?


I went to Delia’s, today, for the express purpose of feeling like a middle-aged poseur. Sure enough, I was totally offended by all the stupid kids who were buying skinny jeans, scarves, and The Smiths and Sonic Youth t-shirts.

Youth. Wasted on the young.

I stood near the dressing room, waiting for a woman — who was older than me and called me ma’am — to unlock one of the rooms so I could try on some hoodies. An even older woman walked up to me and said, “I’d like to try on these clothes.”

I said, “Do I look like I work here?”


She walked away.

It must be the total look of disdain on my face. I no longer look like I work in Human Resources. I look like an underemployed woman who works at the mall.

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