i went shopping monday (something i loathe, but it’s a must 2 or 3 times a year). as i was checking out at one store the sales clerk asked for my zip-code. i was a little surprised at how sheepish i felt when responding “55522”… why?
it just so happens that i live in my fair city’s most “aristocratic” zip-code. in fact, one particular cotillion group will only let your kids attend if you live in my zip-code. ridiculous.
so when giving out my zip-code, it’s hard not to follow up with, “but i promise i’m not a snob… please don’t judge me!”
which is funny… because for some, to be in a homeowner in my zip is to have arrived.
and then some could care less, i suppose.
me, i get a little embarrassed. not embarrassed enough to move.