chronicles of embarrassment: those…grecians.

I graduated homeschool when I was 15, almost 16; so I got a full-time job when I turned 16. And it just so happened, that 3 other girls I grew up with, also graduated around the same time, and we all worked within 10 minutes of each other. So naturally, we went to lunch together like 4 out of 5 days every week. And probably 50% of the time was at one resturant – Showmar’s. At first it was because it was really the only good place around, but then, it was more like because we had made little friends there. It was a locally owned, greek inspired “Casual dining…fast!” place to eat.

Everyone in Showmar’s knew who we were, what we were going to eat, and knew all the nitty-gritty about our dramatic teenage lives.

I like to blame the frequency of our visit’s to Showmar’s on the Grecian’s (is that a word? if not, let’s just go with it ’cause it sounds cool). All those Grecians with their dark flowy hair, and olive skin that tans perfectly, and their abilities to have the best of both worlds – living in the states and having a month long ‘vacation’ every year to visit family in Greece. (to my family: can you move to Greece? I promise I’ll come visit you EVERY year!)

Now, fast forward to now; I’m 23, and I limit myself to Showmar’s twice a month. I can’t help it. But, starting today, I’m doing an intervention on myself. You see, not only do the nice employee’s that work there recognize me, but they know me by name. They know what kind of car I drive, so when they see me pull up, they have my order on the front desk, with everything in the bag ready for me to swipe my debit card and go as soon as I walk in the door. This is all very sweet, but THEN, today, I called to place my order to-go, and they recognized my voice. This is a crisis. And this…. this, is just plain embarrassing.