Getting Past Being a Snob

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August 27, 2011

Taken aback by the attack of the sales person in the store, I stood there aghast when she called me a snob.

Me, a snob? What did I do?

I am a deep complexioned woman and therefore there will never be an occasion for me to wear canary yellow shoes. My lack of enthusiasm in trying on something that I will never buy, let alone wear, does not make me a snob, it makes me a smart shopper. After quickly explaining this to Sales Lady from Hell, she told me it wasn’t just the shoes, it was my whole demeanor. She further went on to say that my “aura” from the moment I walked in the store was air of superiority. My eyebrows went up. I breathed deep and I assume she expected me to attack her with vicious words.

I merely asked, “When did you stop dreaming?”

She shut the heck up.

Her attack on me had nothing to do with my aura, my feelings, or even the canary yellow shoes. Her attack was on my confidence and the lack of her own. There was something in my ability to say no to a very aggressive sales person and not be intimidated, rubbed her all wrong. She felt she needed to cut me down to size. She needed to let me know how she felt. She had words that were burgeoning in her brain that needed to be unloaded on me.

Me, the Snob.

I will admit I am a bit of a snob for I am always seeking new opportunities to blossom. I also limit the amount of negative energy I allow to flow through my body by reducing the influence of processed trash to enter my system. This includes reality television. This includes bad wine, processed foods, drama queens, drama kings, individuals with poor judgment and those who always want you to listen to their problems. This makes me a snob? No this makes me smart.

I am a dreamer. I like to think of new ways that I can grow, evolve, and continue to learn.

I have read Beowulf in Olde English and I even laughed when I read the Canterbury Tales. Yet, my some of my favorite writers are Julie Garwood , Janet Evanovich and Dianne McKiney Whetstone. I like diversity. I love literature but I appreciate great characters and a good storyline. I also love Elmore Leonard, and local authors. I am not a snob, I am a reader.

I deserve the best in life and I also deserve and opportunity to try to better myself. I will not do so at the detriment of another. Although my dreams may seem to some, large, but I have a large imagination. I have traveled to four of the seven continents and plan to do the other 3. I want to enjoy the fruits of a life well lived and therefore I can not stop dreaming.

Did you stop dreaming?

Have you accepted that there is nothing on television and instead of picking up your old favorite hobby, you sit there and veg out on the REAL Housewives of Spoiled Hell?

Stop it.

Get up, walk into your craft room, extra room, laundry room and find that hobby that you put down. Pick it up and think about the projects you want to work on and the projects you have not finished. Think about the things you told yourself five years ago that you wanted to do and write down how far off you are and what it would take to get you back on the road.

Today is your day to become a S.N.O.B. Today is the day for you to seek new opportunities to blossom.

You can get past being a snob by actually following your dream and making it blossom.

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4 thoughts on “Getting Past Being a Snob

    hotshot bald cop said:
    August 31, 2011 at 9:05 pm

    Thank you for a great post.

      Cheryl Corbin said:
      September 1, 2011 at 3:37 pm

      Mr. Lauter,

      Thank you for reading. I am a fan of your work and have enjoyed your great caliber of acting on the big and small screen. I am humbled that you are reading. Thank you again.

    slkeith said:
    August 28, 2011 at 8:49 pm

    I’ve had similar situations happen to me. One day while shopping in one of San Diego’s most expensive department stores, the sales woman approached me with her nose in the air and suggested that the merchandise on the shelves was a bit out of my price range. Guess I shouldn’t have gone in there in jeans and a t-shirt. She ticked me off to the point where I heard myself say to her, “Now tell me, who is the one who has to work for a living and who is the one with time and money for shopping?” She huffed off and I left the store. I wouldn’t have spent a dime there and I never went back again. She was the snob. Not me.

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