Oh So Pretty

I did this today. First time in at least three years. And I feel pretty, oh so pretty. 

 

I showered, applied absolutely zero makeup, slipped all my goodness into tacky warmup bottoms and my Be Kind t-shirt, slapped on a baseball cap, and snuck into town. Maggie Rose reluctantly forgave me for not including her. 

 

He's massaging my legs and feet like he means it. 

 

"I massage you long time if you my wife."

 

Might be worth it. 

 

Thirty minutes later the sweet lady cleaning up my neglected fingernail cuticles asks me if I'm married. 

 

No.

 

"It's just you here in Jackson?"

 

Yes.

 

"You need man, you so pretty."

 

I almost snort. I'm not so pretty today, but I smile. I smile often. Maybe smiles make one appear pretty. 

 

"Why you have no man?"

 

Good question. 

 

I don't get out.

 

I scare men.

 

Men scare me.

 

I work. A lot.

 

At this point in my life, I don't want to mess up peace and tranquility. This was hard earned. 

 

I'm not everyone’s cup of tea.

 

I'm not interested in getting to know a man's family. I'm not kidding, not even a little bit. Families are complicated. Not interested. (Back when I dated and was reading through profiles, I came across a man who'd lost his wife to cancer. He stated in his profile exactly this, he wasn't interested in meeting perspective dates' families, nor did he expect them to meet his family. I thought him cold at the time. We didn't date or even meet. I just found his comment different. Now? Now I totally get it.)

 

I didn't give her my list of why. 

 

Basically, that ship sailed. 

 

And I'm okay with that, though companionship would be nice at times.

 

But wasn't it nice of her to compliment me though I was a barely put together hot mess?

 

I do feel pretty tonight. Same tacky warmup bottoms, Be Kind t-shirt, a snoring schnauzer snuggled close, and the prettiest Big Apple Red tootsies. 

 

I feel pretty.