Ding and my hair

My youth was an interesting time. I tried to be many different things. Finally I settled on tomboy, chopped off my hair to almost a copy of David's, and refused to wear the skirts and dresses I wore before then.
One day, Mom and I are going to town to pick up David from school. It was a normal thing, but that day, Mom went to a gas station before we were to pick up David. She needed smokes, or something. Never the less, we pulled up to the window. I was sitting in the back seat, and I waved to the woman who came to serve Mom. Years later I found out her name was Ding. She smiled and waved back, saying to Mom, "You have cute little boy."

I was devastated.

Years later, my hair had gone through a few more butcherrings, and I had dyed it blue. I went back to the gas station with David and his roommate to grab some snacks. It had snowed, so we all wore our heavy coats. I got up to the counter with my stuff, and Ding looked me straight in the face and said, "You so handsome!"

I was crushed.

So, a few weeks ago, I went through her drive through to get a coke only to find the only form of payment I could do was by card. Ding gave me the dirtiest look I'd ever seen, charged me two bucks for a 20 ounce bottle, and it was out of date by a year.

She can't call me a boy again if I boycott the damn place.

>:}