Shopgirl

I politely placed my purchases onto the counter and waited for the girl to scan them. She was about 18 and wearing a purple t-shirt with You Rock in jaggy white letters. A hot pink windbreaker was wrapped around her shoulders while large, plasic white pearls hung around her neck. Her spiky brown hair and nerdy black glasses more than suggested hipsterish coolness.

I waited for her to make eye contact and after she deigned to look at me she gave a slight smirk. Hey...what is she smirking at? I thought a bit offended. Is it my clothes? Do I have something on me? Admittedly, I looked a bit yuppie-ish. Plus, I was tired from a busy work day. I sighed inwardly and told myself that it doesn't matter what she thinks.

She finished ringing me up and took my card, then smirked again at my license. She handed the bag to me as she was talking to the other clerk. I took it and went to leave but not before I saw her whisper to her co-worker and look in my direction one last time. What the fuck?

Honestly, who the hell cares what some random teenager in a clothes shop thinks of me? It isn't important whatsoever and will have no impact upon my life or hers.

But...but...what a bitch. I think she just wanted to make me feel bad.