P is for Perfectionist...

Standing in line at the grocery store a complete stranger pegged me as a perfectionist.

All I did was put my hand basket away. But when I looked back I noticed it was slightly askew. A black woman moved in front of the baskets and I reached around her to straighten my basket out so it fit snug with the others.

The black woman beamed at me and said, "Honey, you just gave yourself away. You a perfectionist!"

I felt my ears heat up instantly (and I still don't know why). I just chuckled and awkwardly stepped in front of the cashier to pay.

"Listen, honey," the black woman went on. "Why don't you go on home and mess some things up." She laughed a jolly laugh.

I laughed with her and hated the fact that I was embarrassed.

Why be embarrassed? Maybe it's embarrassing when you realize how transparent you are. Or maybe it's embarrassing to discover you have a nerdy compulsion to straighten things. Or maybe it was because the black woman had her hand on my ass.

Just kidding. Though that would've been embarrassing too.