My freshman year in high school, my course schedule landed me in a World History class occupied predominantly with upperclassmen. Fate landed me between two guys, both Seniors and oh-so-much cooler than I would ever be, who became my project partners for the duration of the course. They were polite enough and eventually we became as comfortable with each other as you can get with your assigned high school project team.
One warm fall day, I entered the classroom wearing a new pair of strappy sandals. I loved the new shoes. So when one of the project guys started pointing at my feet, I sat straighter, ready for the compliment.
“You know,” Hot Senior Guy 1 said, “If you’re going to wear shoes like that, you really should shave your feet first.”
Hot Senior Guy 2 then leaned over to have a look. “Yeah,” he agreed casually, “although, you’re hair’s blonde so it’s not that big of a deal. But still, you really shouldn’t let it get that long.”
Believe it or not, total mortification was not my first reaction – although that settled in quickly enough. No, my first reaction was to be totally ticked off: why hadn’t anyone ever told me I was suppose to shave my feet?!
From that moment on, I decided to always tell.
If you have a booger hanging out of your nose, I’m going to tell you. If you have toilet paper stuck on your shoe, or your skirt tucked in to the back of your panties – I’m going to tell you. I’ll be discreet, and as polite as possible, but I will tell you.
So to the nice lady at Target this morning whose blouse was gaping open from her breasts to her belly, please don’t be upset that I pointed out your fashion faux pas. I really wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I was only trying to help:)