We meet at my friend/co-workers house and she lives in a gated community.
At the gate visitors are required to leave a form of I.D. in exchange for a visitor pass. It's a new policy - enforced by an older retiree-looking fellow . . .
Now here is where I let you in on a little known secret -
I have a pretty-good looking driver license picture. God was gracious that day . . . .
Anyway - so I pass this over and the man does a double take . . .
"This is you?!"
"Er-yes? He he . . ." *feeling rather like a cow now*
and after some more scrutiny "Oh, I see . . . you had red glasses there . . . " and he turns and passes me my visitor pass.
That was my first encounter, and I went home vowing to comb my hair-for-heaven-sake-at-least, among some other forgotten new years resolutions.
Following Fridays have been similar . . .
"Michelle, I remember you . . . "
"Michelle the lovely . . . are these your kids? They are as lovely as the mother"
with me responding similarly . . . "Oh thank you, hehehe . " and drive off.
I figure that while I'm doing my thing there for an hour or two he is looking at that rather flattering picture and associating it with some idealized persona of me . . .
Because that is NOT me on a daily basis . . . not even on Sunday. I'm wearing makeup for crying out loud! Anyone who knows me knows that makeup is one corner I cut EVERYDAY.
Driver's licence picture:
Me, right now:
And this is all rather very flattering . . .
or really really really REALLY sad . . . . :-)