Sales clerks who intimidate

My mother told a funny story over lunch today about how she went to a yarn store recently to buy a stitch counter. She knew what she wanted, but she allowed the clerk to talk her into one she didn't want. So she waited until a day when he wasn't working so she could return it, because dude. She was kind of afraid of him and his forceful opinions about stitch counters.

My sister-in-law and I grabbed the table edges and GASPED because we have both been there--intimidated, nay BULLIED by sales clerks.

How can this be? Grownup, independent women cowed by clerks. Who knew?

POV and reality television

So when we were in So Cal this amazingly good-looking family rented the beach house next to ours. Like, they were movie star good-looking. And they spent a lot of time in skimpy swimwear talking about shopping and personal trainers and so forth. So I made the comment that it was like living next door to a reality television show--the Kardashians or something. Let me tell you we made merry with THAT idea.

And then one afternoon I looked at me, my sister-in-law, my daughter-in-law, and my niece sitting on the beach in our non-swimming suits as the four of us were knitting and I went, "And that family next door? They think they're living next door to the Duggars."

It's useful to have a shift in POV in life as well as in writing . . .