I work as a pharmacy assistant. It’s not the *most* dynamic sort of job, but I do get to interact with a wonderfully diverse group of people. Today I was ringing up a lady dressed in varying shades of pink– from her top, to her jacket, to her nails, to her jewelry– very spring-appropriate, I thought. (I silently applauded her, because pink is my favourite colour and has been since I was old enough to understand what a favourite colour meant). She kept her gaze fixed on me, even after she had inserted her card into the machine. Her fingers hovered over the keypad as she looked at me. Finally, she blurted: “but how can you be a pharmacy assistant when you’re like, grade three??”
I smile politely and told her I just finished my first year of pharmacy school. She nodded and said, as if to convince herself, “well yes, of course I wasn’t being serious, I know you can’t be working here if you were really in grade three…”
I somehow felt apologetic and tried to assure her lightly, “I know I look young”.
She just looked at me, her fingers still hovering over the pinpad.
