I smiled at him and proceeded to count out his medications. My boss had previously purchased some copies of my first work, Her Keepers, and had copies of them out on the front counter. While the gentlemen waited, he picked up a copy and began to read the back cover.
I continued counting, while T processed the prescriptions.
“Do you know who wrote this,” the gentlemen asked one of the girls at the front counter.
The girls were still a bit excited about the whole situation, it had been almost a year since Her Keepers had been published.
“She did,” one of the girls exclaimed, pointing at me.
“That’s her,” another shouted from the back, also pointing at me.
I looked up and smiled again, pausing to answer any questions he may have about the book.
I’ll be honest, I wasn’t as dressed up that day as I was in the photo. Let’s be real, I only get dressed up for photo shoots and special occasions. If you come into the pharmacy on a regular day, I’m in scrubs with my hair thrown into a bun. At least around that time.
The gentleman looked at me and then the picture on the back of the book.
It wasn’t abnormal for people not recognize me. On more than one occasion, I had someone ask, “YOU wrote this book?” I was beginning to wonder if I looked that dumb. Why was this so shocking?
Again, the man looked at me and then at the picture on the back of the book.
Here it comes, I thought to myself, another ‘YOU wrote this book’ moment.
“But this girl is pretty,” he said, pointing to the picture on the back cover. The man seemed almost baffled as he looked up at me.
I heard several gasps from the girls, it was about that time, I lost control of my facial expression. (Side note: that’s a normal occurrence as I age.) I pushed my lips out a bit as I nodded.
I stand corrected. I not only look dumb, I’m apparently ugly too.
“Sorry to disappoint.” I told him.
He shrugged and put the book down.
I guess deep down, I always knew I wasn’t a ten. Shame.