it’s the little things.

You know there’s those people who put I’m a people person on their resume, which really means that they have so little work experience that they need to put that they can hold some semblance of a conversation in order to try and gain employment?

I’m totally a people person.

Granted, it’s not on my resume anymore because retail is luckily and thankfully in my past, not that I didn’t get some great stories from the years and years I put it at Macy’s and Forever 21 and oh good fucking lord i always forget I used to work at Meijer.

Back when I was a Macy's  Girl, in all black. Yes, we shopped on our lunch hour. BONUS POINTS IF YOU CAN GUESS HOW PREGGO I AM HERE.

Back when I was a Macy’s Girl, in all black. Yes, we shopped on our lunch hour. BONUS POINTS IF YOU CAN GUESS HOW PREGGO I AM HERE.

But I’m still a people person.

Last week marked my two year anniversary at my current job. Two years of lots and lots of people person skills.

Today, an older couple came in together, as they always do. We started talking as they were preparing to leave, and it turned out that it’s their anniversary.

Him: 46th Anniversary.

Her: 47th.

Him: You’re wrong.

Her: You don’t remember to take your pills in the morning.

Him: I did this morning.

Her: Because I left them on your table like I always do.

Him: 46th.

Her (conspiratorially to me): It’s our 47th. He was a terrible husband the first year.

Him: I can hear you.

Her: I SAID IT LOUD.

I, of course, congratulated them on their love and marriage. They know I’m single [and once tried to set me up with their grandson. He’s 20.] and told me that if they could make it work, anyone can.

Insert collective aw here.

So, of course, I asked them. What makes them work? How are they still so in love after this many years?

There’s a long silence.

Him: Here is the thing you have to remember. Here is the important part of life that no one realizes anymore.

Me: It’s my smartphone’s fault, isn’t it?

Him: Shut up. And yes.

Long silence again.

Him: It’s not where you are, or what you’re doing, but who you’re with that makes a life.

We all stop a second to take this in.

Her: I really wish you’d fart less.

Him: And I love you.

As always, follow me on twitter for the abbreviated versions of these sagas.

About L.A.

Mom Life/Engaged Life/Blog Life/Love Life

Posted on December 5, 2013, in Carpe Diem and YOLO and stuff like that and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

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