You’re Gorgeous, Random Stranger

In the grocery store today, Gentle Reader, while I was “makin’ groceries,” to quote my New Orleanian late mother, I told a random woman she was gorgeous.

You are, I said.  The hair, the dress, the flower, everything.

Oh! she said, blushing.  Thank you!

She was.  Beautiful, I mean.  Tall, stylish hair, black dress, perfect skin, flower in her hair like a postmodern Billie Holiday.  She was stunning.  And I was grateful for that little slice of beauty she added to my life.

Is it weird that I told her so?  Possibly.  But my husband has asked me to stop telling him when people are pretty, or when I like a dress or outfit, and tell the person.  It matters to them, he says.  Not to me.

So I did.

I told her.

I hope I brightened her day.

She brightened mine.

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