All my thoughts this past week can be fit inside a single interaction I had at the grocery store Thursday afternoon.
"I hate to be personal," an elderly woman told me as I rang up her groceries, "But I have to ask: do they mind your piercings here?" I shook my head and explained her to how I had taken my nose and lip stud out for the interview, but was told they would both be allowed upon hire. I've actually had this conversation quite a few times in line, checking groceries. This women was not an atypical Seattlite: tall, slender, eccentrically dressed, grey hair swept up under a neat little woolly cap, with a deep, husky voice and quick, intelligent conversation.
"You know every generation has their rebellion," she told me matter-of-factly, packing wine and ginger into reusable grocery bags. "First its very bad to pierce your nose, and soon it doesn't mean anything, like choosing a blue shirt or pink lipstick." "Wonder what the next generation will do to rebel?" I said. She rolled her eyes, "Oh, probably something really bad. They'll probably be religious."
