intertext

I've gotten pretty good at avoiding mirrors. But I had to laugh--I had to go up to LA last week, and the uniform of choice for those meetings is jeans and a nice top. I wore my awesome burgundy velvet jacket, and there was my braid hanging down, so from the back I probably looked young. Anyway, a young woman at the next stall tapped me on the shoulder and began explaining that she left her wallet behind and could I give her a dollar or two for gas, and when I turned around, she looked at my face and JUMPED. then recovered fast, like "Ugh! Old lady! Oh God, don't show your revulsion!" I had to laugh at myself; when she took the fiver I gave her, her attitude had shifted from fellow woman to mom.