I recently attended the opening of an H&M. By attended, I mean stood in the small crowd watching the crazy long line to enter the store and wondered if these people had no internet or didn't understand the store was going to be here tomorrow and the day after that too, or what inspired them to wait in line for hours that day. (As I stood there watching them wait. Don't judge me! And in the interest of full disclosure, free gift cards motivated them but there were definitely not enough free gift cards for the hundreds of people present in line).
And while watching all of the young, hip staff dancing together in front of the store prior to the ribbon cutting, it occurred to me that H&M wouldn't want to hire me because I am too old.
(And yeah, I really did just use "hip" as an adjective for young people up there.)
Not only am I not looking for a job but retail would be a living hell for me. Folding and hanging and counting and talking to people? I admittedly lack all of those skills. But once I realized they probably wouldn't want me anyway, you would have thought it was my life dream to work there. The injustice of it all was unbearable.
I am not too old! I decided. I'm only 34! And I'm still cool! They'd be lucky to have me! (Maybe.)
But I can't dance. Or wear ALL of the things at once like they do. Or fold. Or count. And again, I don't want that job. It was still sad though.
I turned to Mr. Ashley, hoping he'd understand. "I just realized I'm too old to work at H&M." I blurted out. Before getting a response I added, "Like, they wouldn't want me, you know? It's a weird thought that I'm too old," just in case he thought I was looking for work.
"Of course you are," he said without pause.
"It's sad! It makes me sad! I'm not that old." He laughed at my disappointment of not getting a job I didn't want or even apply to.
We continued to watch them dance, all young and happy. "This music is too loud," he said. For the third time.
Then I was completely over it because that officially makes him the old one.
And I'm not looking for a job anyway.
(H&M is awesome though, I'm glad we have one. )
I hear you. I will never be the cool mysterious girl behind the bar that everybody's boyfriend fancies. And it doesn't matter that working behind a bar is pretty much my definition of hell.
They may be younger, but there is no way they are hotter than you. I mean that in the least creepy way possible.
Bartender is also on my list of jobs I want but don't want! It seems so glamorous, but I go to bed at 9:30. And I hate drunk people.
LD, that's my kind of compliment, creepy or not, so I'll take it! ;-) Thanks, it makes me feel slightly less old.
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