It feels like I've used up my supply of small talk. Nine times out of ten I actually enjoy talking with the customers, some even have some interesting stories (like the guy today who did his post-grad journalism degree at NYU... swoon!), but just that one time a customer catches me when I'm not at my best. I might be staring into space while they wave their arms about trying to get my attention, have completely forgotten something they've just told me ("Oh sorry, you just said you didn't want a bag, right?") or my inner-awkward (something I have managed to suppress a little since working at Artikel) comes out and conversation falls flat. Ouch.
Sometimes I like to escape for a few minutes - visit a friend who works at Karen Walker next door, go on a coffee run, get supplies or put the rubbish out. Anything to have a moment away! Yesterday, while dashing between Artikel and Karen Walker, trying to avoid the raindrops a big gust of wind blew my dress up and I was exposed to a good number of people on the street around me, and no doubt whoever were in the buses driving past. Oh the shame! I had glasses of champagne in my hands so was unable to do some maneuver to get my dress back into its original place. I still would have looked silly as I leapt to the safety of the nearest wall and twisted my body around as I tried to push my skirt back down, but alas, the glasses restricted my movements somewhat. For a split second I almost considered leaving the glasses to smash on the pavement to save my dignity, but that would just create even more of a scene. Instead I just laughed it off, which was really the only thing I could do. It had happened and it certainly wasn't the first time and probably won't be the last. Karen Walker dresses clearly aren't made with Wellington customers in mind. Sometimes the best things to do in potentially embarrassing situations like that is just to laugh. Otherwise life is just one big awkward/embarrassing situation and that's no fun. By the end of the day we were all joking about it, someone even called me Marilyn.
Just as a side note, the other night at the Holy Fuck show, when Lovely Allen came on, someone who I barely know tapped me on the shoulder and said "This one's for you!". Well, almost, but it was still sweet nonetheless.