“You look like you’ve been painting…” the barista observed after I paid for my coffee.
I looked up.
I looked down.
I looked all around.
HOW COULD SHE TELL???
Yes, I had not showered in 3 days.
But from the counter up, all she could see was my messy hair, the bags under my eyes, and my coat from the waist-up… that was zipped to my neck.
HOW COULD SHE TELL?
Did I have paint in my hair?
Was there paint on my jacket?! HOW DID I GET PAINT ON MY JACKET?!
OOOOOOR… did she have the power to see through counters and saw my paint-drop stained pants from beneath my long coat?
OR DID I JUST LOOK THAT BAD?
She could have said, “You look tired.”
“You look overworked.”
But she said, “You look like you’ve been painting.”
Is that code for, “Sister, you look BEYOND tired. Get some rest and hide from the public!”
But seriously, I was baffled.
And a little freaked.
Was she psychic?
I must have looked a bit crazy cakes because I kept looking around… not unlike a dog when trying to catch it’s tail.
Only I was looking for stray drops of paint.
HOW DID SHE KNOW?!!!
As far as I could tell, from where I stood there was no way she’d be able to tell I had been painting (remember, I’m painting) UNLESS SHE HAD MADE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.
I didn’t ask any questions.
I just told her I had, in fact, been painting… and I just really needed coffee. I was careful not to make direct eye contact. JUST IN CASE.
///
On my drive home I saw something.
My name is Jenny, and I am NOT on the spot.
