Friday night was Lauren's Annual Holiday Party. Chloe and I had a blast, and I swear I only had 3 glasses of wine. (um, they may have been triple servings though...... Lauren, where did you get such big glasses??)
The next day my mum and I went to Port Huron, MI to mail a package intended for our New Jersey family and get some shopping in. The car ride awoke a serious hangover that wasn't there before 2pm. We grabbed some pizza in the food court, and while I ate slowly my mum ran to the US Postal outlet to check the hours. This is when I was accosted by a 15yr old Michiganer. She had come up to me and said with a nasty smirk on her face "Hi, I don't mean to be rude, but your butt crack is showing by [insert hand gesture measuring half an inch], and well, could you pull your pants up, I don't want to be rude, but you know, your butt is hanging out. [insert snicker and giggles]" SERIOUSLY. I nearly killed her. She was being totally rude and while yes, I had been wearing lowrider jeans, they were far far far from offensive, and she was picking on me because I was eating alone. I bitched her out for two minutes before I sent her off. I turned around to see her snickering behind me at a small table with her sister and her mom.
Honestly, I almost decked her. I have been known to show a little crack, but I was wearing a belt, and the pants were NOT low at all. I think what caught their attention was probably my large-ish back tattoo, not my ass (my shirt had ridden up a smidge). And while there is little you can say about my heart and banner tattoo, somehow, somewhere, somebody made it socially acceptable to comment on a person's pants slung low? I'm sure if my tits were out there would be no call for teeny-bopper in my face insults. Or if I had a birthmark, or worse yet some sort of figure deformation? What if I was male? That would change things considerably.
I was totally taken aback by the crass-ness of the teen, and that her mom allowed her to say something like that to a stranger, let alone another woman. If she was truely being sincere there were many other ways to have said what she did (which I proceeded to tell her) and there is a huge difference between letting someone know their slip is showing than outright pointing it out and mocking them to their face. UGHH.
I had to sit there, alone, for five more minutes waiting for my mom to hurry back from the postal outlet because I had no idea which direction it was.
Seven shopping hours later I had finally cooled down, and we headed back home with a trunkload full of prezzies.
Sunday, I met a new friend for coffee and a stroll down Richmond Row. I had a really good time, and am happily reporting that I have restored investment in the notion that Canadians are a much more friendly people than Americans.