Strange Encounter
Here is, verbatim, a conversation I had today at the Library:
Librarian #1: I know you! You're my weather lady.
Me: Um... ha, ha. Actually, sports.
Librarian #1: Oh, right. That's right. Sports. Channel Three, right?
Me: Um... actually, I work at Nine.
(Librarian #2 turns and stares at us with a smirk on her face)
Librarian #1: Yeah. I knew that. I watch both stations.
Me: I'm just glad to know that someone out there is watching.
Librarian #1: I can't think of your name, though. Alex, right?
Me: No.
(Librarian #2 starts laughing)
Librarian #1: Oh, Alex was before you. Who are you? (note: I don't know who "Alex" is)
Me: (I tell her my name)
Librarian #1: (not embarrassed at all that she's gotten it wrong three times now) Oh, that's right.
(Librarian #2 realizes she better jump in, and tries to diffuse the situation.)
Librarian #2: You know, TV doesn't do you justice. You're so much prettier than on TV.
Me: Ummmm. Thanks.
Welcome to my life. Everyone in this town knows they know me, but nobody's quite sure how they know me. Some people think I'm their neighbor, some people think I'm their kid's teacher, some people think I work at the Wal-Mart.
Once they realize who I am, they always feel the need to remark about my appearance. Here's the thing, though. I don't want to hear that I look prettier, taller, or thinner in person. Yes, it's nice of you to say... but it's like telling a teacher that she seems much smarter in person than she does in front of a class. I make my living (such as it is) on television. I don't want to know that I'm a better me on my day off than I am at work.
On the other hand, I've run into people at the store on a Thursday morning when I'm looking my worst: sweatpants, glasses, no makeup, greasy hair. Most people either don't recognize me, or at least they have the good sense not to say anything to me. Not everyone, though. Usually, it's sweet little old ladies who say to me: "Wow, you look so different. You always look much nicer on TV." That always makes me laugh, and I say something like "Now you know why I don't work the morning shift!"
Here is, verbatim, a conversation I had today at the Library:
Librarian #1: I know you! You're my weather lady.
Me: Um... ha, ha. Actually, sports.
Librarian #1: Oh, right. That's right. Sports. Channel Three, right?
Me: Um... actually, I work at Nine.
(Librarian #2 turns and stares at us with a smirk on her face)
Librarian #1: Yeah. I knew that. I watch both stations.
Me: I'm just glad to know that someone out there is watching.
Librarian #1: I can't think of your name, though. Alex, right?
Me: No.
(Librarian #2 starts laughing)
Librarian #1: Oh, Alex was before you. Who are you? (note: I don't know who "Alex" is)
Me: (I tell her my name)
Librarian #1: (not embarrassed at all that she's gotten it wrong three times now) Oh, that's right.
(Librarian #2 realizes she better jump in, and tries to diffuse the situation.)
Librarian #2: You know, TV doesn't do you justice. You're so much prettier than on TV.
Me: Ummmm. Thanks.
Welcome to my life. Everyone in this town knows they know me, but nobody's quite sure how they know me. Some people think I'm their neighbor, some people think I'm their kid's teacher, some people think I work at the Wal-Mart.
Once they realize who I am, they always feel the need to remark about my appearance. Here's the thing, though. I don't want to hear that I look prettier, taller, or thinner in person. Yes, it's nice of you to say... but it's like telling a teacher that she seems much smarter in person than she does in front of a class. I make my living (such as it is) on television. I don't want to know that I'm a better me on my day off than I am at work.
On the other hand, I've run into people at the store on a Thursday morning when I'm looking my worst: sweatpants, glasses, no makeup, greasy hair. Most people either don't recognize me, or at least they have the good sense not to say anything to me. Not everyone, though. Usually, it's sweet little old ladies who say to me: "Wow, you look so different. You always look much nicer on TV." That always makes me laugh, and I say something like "Now you know why I don't work the morning shift!"
Labels: Being the Sportslady
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