Sometimes, being wrong is a good thing.

Standing in line patiently waiting my turned to order, the cashier helped someone who had just walked in instead of me who had been waiting a few minutes. I was annoyed and the look on my face showed it. A senior citizen customer who had just been served and cashed out looked at me and gave a slight smile. I decided saying something wasn’t worth the trouble and promptly stepped up to the counter to ensure I was next.

The citizen customer came over to me and said

“Can I ask you a question?”

Slightly annoyed, wearing a t shirt that showed both my tattoos and already knowing what the previously asked question (from dozens of others) is going to be I said sure nonchalantly.

He asked, “Did it hurt?”

{Sigh} yep… there’s the question I always try to answer politely, every single time. So many times in fact that I bought myself a belt buckle of a tattoo gun with the words ‘YES, it hurt’ inscribed across it. But… I’m in a mood so I ask back nicely

Me:“did what hurt?”

Citizen customer: “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

{blink blink / blank stare}

At the blank expression of my face, he laughed and said, "you looked like you needed a smile and I thought all angles as beautiful as you should be smiling not frowning."

I didn’t know what to say… I just kindly smiled and probably blushed… Than he handed me a small stack of business sized cards. I looked at them and they were the Mickey Mouse flipping the finger cards that says

“ Thanks for parking so f$#@ing lose to me. Next time leave me a f*&%ing can opener so I get into my car a$$hole!’

Before he walks away, he says, put one of these on the car that parks too close to you. It will give you a smile.

Cards are sitting in my change section of my car. Sometimes, I love when I am wrong. When I get into that mode when I think I know it all from “been there done that” past experiences and I’m proven wrong, it’s refreshing.