That’s Doll to You
Ahhh…the ‘perks’ of being a 20 year old are beginning to show. I’m finally being treated as in adult, mind you an old adult. I was coming off the bus 2 days ago, and I turned to thank the driver (being such a nice person I am) and he thanked me back by saying, “Have a nice day, madam”.
I was flabbergasted when I alighted the bus. A madam? Man, I either seriously need to adjust my clothes or make like a high pitch giggle sound when I thank the driver next time. And to think he farewelled the other uni students by saying, “Have a nice day, doll”.
I’m not a person who likes to be stereotyped, especially when it involves very stigmatic titles (eg: madam), but I want to be a ‘doll’! I don’t wanna be an old, frumpy madam (no offence to all you madams out there!). I don’t suppose you madams would consider me being one in my Gripp Jeans mini skirt and a yellow tank top? Noooooooo….That’s just ‘doll’-like.
But then again, some other people tell me I look like a 16 year old.
*Sigh*
Can’t the public ever make up their mind?
Remember the girls in all the romance novels you read? The ones with pink covers? The ones I’m partial to when it comes to a good summer reading list? All them girls are in their 20s, with storylines of them cavorting with their rich boyfriends to the trusty guy-dumps-girl-and-girl-gets-over-guys-in-a-milisecond type of story lines.
I suppose one of the reasons why I’m partial to them is cause they probably exsist in my imagination from time to time, appearing whenever I’m on a tight deadline or when I’m just swamped with work.
Then it struck me: I’m a girl in her 20s (well, girl who is 20 to be exact), and no longer a teenager! I’m next in line for all those storylines that seem to reverbrate in my cranial space. I’m growing up. I’m responsible for my future.
Man oh man! I really need to stop reading them pink covered books. Next thing you know, you’ll be calling me madam!
Wait a minute, that’s DOLL to you!