Another shot to the ego...

Yesterday was a miserable hot day, and my shitbox car has the worst AC on the planet.  So I drive my son to his eye appointmment after changing out of khakis and into short and flipflops.  I still sweated like a whore in church, but at least my feet were not boiling.

I get to the doctor's office and my son goes in for his vision therapy (this stuff is great for helping with focus, btw.) and the clinician calls me in for the brief on his homework exercises.  After the usual spiel we are visiting, a little small talk.  She asks me if I am in a rock band.  I laugh and say no but I am secretly flattered that I look like a rock star.  Nice!  And before you ask, no, I no longer have a mohawk, it was just a lark for a Super Bowl party. 

So I walk out of there with a big grin, feeling like Big John Stud.  Good way to wind up the day.

I get to the house and my new neighbor is struggling with trying to get a huge box into her Mommymobile.  So I go to assist, because I'm a nice neighbor.  And maybe her 7th grade hooligan of a son won't rob me blind later.  We start chatting about this and that, invite her and the kid to our BBQ this weekend and general BS.  She proceeds to tell me that I look like a guy that listens to country, because I grew up in a trailer and I have a twang in my voice.  Dang.  There goes my overinflated sense of self worth. 

If I had more than one beer in the house, I'd have drank them all. 

I'm sexy, dammit.  You know it, I know it.  Let's just all admit it, so I can mend my wounded ego!