In the small
town I reside there are many events that lure people to stroll the streets and
hopefully stimulate some economy. This weekend was the Holy Grail of such
events. Sidewalk Sales. Just the words bring a duffle bag of emotions to my
mind. Sun, sweat, sales… that is the essence of this event. This is when the
stores have their lowest sales of the summer and hope to clear out as much
inventory to make room for the coming sweaters, scarves, and parkas.
To me Sidewalk
Sales means overtime, tired feet, and food. The ladies bring goodies to snack
on throughout the long day and management provides a meal. Overtime is nice
because it pays for luxuries like… insurance, textbooks, tuition. Sidewalk
sales means my job changes from being behind a counter in air conditioning to
standing outside in the sun making sure no ladies walk away with a rack of
clothing. To be honest… if anybody tried this I would respond with “God bless
them”. That would mean one less rack to roll in at the end of the day.
It was nearing the end of my second day of
Sidewalk Sales. Nine hours of being outside with the sun beaming on me and my skin was turning like a peach. I finally managed to find a stool to perch myself on
and settled in when I noticed a lady waving at me down the block. She did not
look familiar, but it could be a customer and, not wanting to offend, I smiled
back. She got closer and said to me surprised “I don’t know you!” Oh my gosh this seems like something that
would happen to me. She probably feels embarrassed. I respond with a laugh.
She continues still
in shock “You look just like my son’s
girlfriend!”
Is this a new line or
something? “Oh my gosh, I have a twin!” I reply joking.
“No really! You look just
like her! They are headed to dinner and he said she was wearing a sundress,
you are wearing a sundress. She always wears her hair pulled back like yours is
now, and with the sun shining on your hair the color even looks the same! Your
sunglasses even look like hers!” She tells me.
This… is… this is
weird. “Oh wow. I really do have a twin! How funny!” I say.
“Yeah,” she says. “I was ready to call out ‘Hey Liz!’”
“Wait what? What is her name?”
“Her name is Liz…” She says confused.
“My name is Elizabeth,” I tell her.
“Oh my gosh. Her name is Elizabeth.”
Ya know… typical day at work. The next day I was helping a couple when the
gentleman said I looked just like their waitress. I said jokingly “It’s my
twin! Was her name Liz?” The look on his face...
