rudely

Tasks
1. sit in office. wait for productivity to magically occur.
2. office hours.
3. afternoon class.

Trappings

jeans: Loft, thrifted blouse (worn as vest): Moth, thrifted tee-shirt: ancient belt: vintage boots: Civico 10 headband: thrifted

Tales

So here’s a tale. I want to my university’s book-store coffee shop yesterday afternoon when I was flagging in a big way and needed a giant soy chai latte to give me sugar and caffeine enough to make it home intact. Because it’s the first week of a new term, the bookstore is understandably packed and bustling, and they had out all these bowls of free candy everywhere. Nice, right? So I went up to the coffee counter and ordered my drink and was trying to be polite and chat with the barista (“I bet it’s been a really busy day, huh? I hope everything’s gone smoothly for you guys!”). She wasn’t really responsive, so I just gave her some money and smiled. Then, she offered me some candy (as she’d obviously been instructed to do to all customers). But because of my new-found allergy diet, I couldn’t eat any of it, so I refused. And let’s please note, at this juncture of the story, that I declined the coffee very politely: “oh, no thank you, but I certainly appreciate the offer!”

This is where my mundane story kicks up. She gave me an exasperated look and moved over to the espresso machine, so I moved out of the way to wait for my drink. As she was crafting my yummy beverage, another employee of the store came over and remarked at how much candy was still in the bowl. And how did the barista respond? With the following: “yeah, well, they just refilled it and then some people, like, turn it down. I guess they want to pretend they don’t want candy so that people won’t think they’re fat.” Maybe she didn’t realize that I could hear her over the sounds of soy milk steaming, but I could. So thanks, barista, for your snarkiness. Thanks for implying that I’m fat (which, though I don’t care what you think about my body and don’t think fat is a bad thing, is certainly your way of insulting me). Thanks for projecting misogynistic assumptions about why I make my food decisions. And thanks, most of all, for reminding me yet again of how annoying this new food-lifestyle is. Because you know what? I did want that Almond Joy, and it bummed me out to have to turn it down. How kind of you.

Anyhow, that little rant is brought to you by Wednesday of Week One, the time of the term when I am rudely reminded that, oh, right… I actually have a lot of stuff to do. Le sigh. I’m off to the salt mines again, as my dad always used to say.

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