Smiling Confidence, I hear you ask.

Yesterday, I hit Woolies' for a Caramel Millionaire's Shortbread and lemony sparkling mineral water. I needed a sugary pick-me up, see, because I was feeling particularly grey and iffy*. I attribute this to the mussels I ate the night before, which were, coincidentally, the first mussels I've had since I returned from Japan. I dawdled along to the till, my iPod blaring (if I remember correctly) something by White Rose Movement. Oh, also, my hair was doing the thing whereby it expands into my personal space and risks being Punished**.

So, I hand over my money, half in another world***, noting vaguely that the teller has called me sweetie about three times. Resolve not to take it personally. Then she busts out with:"oh, such smiling confidence! Sweetie."

Wha-ha? Was my approximate reaction. "really? I was smiling?"
"yes! and with such confidence!", she replied, intimating vaguely that this was not necessarily a good thing, "Sweetie".
"oh, okay. Because I don't feel confident..."
"Well, it was a really big smile. You seemed so proud. Sweetie."

So, I walked out, gnawing on my Caramel Millionaire's Shortbread, which is never as good as you think it's going to be, right? And I was more than a little disturbed. Is this how it is? Am I not the person I thought I was? have I been exuding charm, confidence and friendliness, the whole time I thought was an established curmudgeon? This would, of course, explain all the random strangers, homeless people and crazies who strike up conversations with me when I'm (supposedly) doing Unapproachable Bitch.

This unconscious charm offensive, and external mantle of confidence would, you see, mean I'm turning into my mother****. Oh, god, do I bat my eyelashes and twinkle at people?

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I would also like this opportunity to mock an advert which names Skip***** as an "international washing powder" OOOOH! Fancy! it's an international washing powder! That's almost like being a designer label!

* oh, crap, the half I didn't eat is still in my pocket. Note to self: do not wash jacket with chocolate still contained therein.
**not a typo.
*** actually, make it three-quarters.
**** hey, it works for her, but she likes not being a cranky little sod.
***** or Surf, or whatev, it's a washing powder, it makes bubbles, it smells okay.