She stared at me, looking at me with those owl eyes.
I didn't know what to do.
What if she thinks I'm weird.
What if she doesn't like the way I look...
The way I speak...
The way I way show myself...
I know that I'm insecure and I know why I'm shy,
But could she really be thinking this of me?
Or is this all in my head.
"Is this all for you?.." she said with a plastic attitude.
"uh, yeah" I said with a cracky tone.
I didn't really know that my voice would sound like that, but it just did.
"Alright, your total is $29.80.."
-
When I was picking which shoe I wanted, I knew she was judging me from behind. I could feel her eyes gazing to how unbelievably skinny I was. I know she thought of me as a bone, a stick, a pencil... but I can't help myself for what I am. I have always been this skinny, this "flat" bodied, ever since I was little. Just for once, I wish I could be curvy and have big boobs and a big butt. I really don't mind being that way, really. But I am not that kind of person right now, I'm an ugly twig, and I knew that was why she was staring.
Now, once I found the shoe I was looking for, I had to tell this googly-eyed lady what my shoe size is. Oh no.. I have clown feet. For my height and size, it didn't fit. My feet are so unproportioned to everything on my body. I was a size 10. Not many people have this size.
"What size would you want for these shoes?" she said.
"Size 10" I said with discouragement.
"Alright, let me go get them for you" she replied.
I knew that she couldn't believe that a 5'4, skinny, pale, clown-feet girl would ask for a pair of shoes... I should've just left when I had the chance. So I wouldn't have to deal with this kind of feeling... the feeling of "why did I just do that"
"Debit or Credit?" she told me.
"Debit" still speaking with my unexplained croaky voice.
I swiped the card as fast as I could, just to get out the store.
Finally. It was over.
---
When she entered the store, I just loved her outfit.
Each and every stitch and fabric. It was quite perfect.
When she was choosing which shoe she wanted, I couldn't help but see the one she wanted. She chose one of the edgy shoes that I know won't look good on me, but would look perfect on her.
"What size would you want for these shoes?" I told her with positivity
"Size 10" she told me.
I was quite amazed that she had that size. But she was very lucky. We mostly sell out on sizes 6, 7, and 8.. but we always had 10's in stock, especially for these shoes, which are bestsellers.
I ringed her up and she just left quickly without hesitation.
YOU ARE READING
JENNY
Não FicçãoHer typical-teenage-introverted life gets the best of her. This is Jenny. And this is her diary.