an ordinary compliment


When we arrived at the hotel for the XGames I spoke with the concierge, who had the thickest New Zealander accent I'd ever heard. I was "huh?ing" him all over the place. Anyway, I asked him if he had any maps and bus schedules for the Games because we'd just arrived and were planning on heading right over to the superpipe practice.

And he asked me if I was an athelete competing in the games.

Why do people make these sorts of comments to me? Do I just have one of those "spit out the first thing that comes to mind" faces? I mean, for one thing, I'm nearing 40, for crissake. OK, I keep myself in shape and apparently I look younger than my years (tell that to my ragged, pillow-wrinkled, early morning reflection in the mirror and she'll spit at you) and we'd just dragged in a bunch of snowboard gear, but really. This was a ski-in/out hotel, so everyone else was, too.

The husband thought he was trying to flatter me. OK, so people who make these odd random comments to me are trying to flatter me. I guess I'm...flattered.

That's not me in the picture, btw.

No comments: