Cheer: “Does anyone have any questions about the menu?”
Lady: “You need to go to the beach!”
Cheer: “Excuse me?”
Lady, bewildered: “Your skin, it’s…it’s like ivory. You need to go to the beach!”
Cheer: “Oh, OK. Wow. Yup. You had two full chances to process that before speaking, and both times you decided that that was an acceptable thing to say.”
Lady to companions: “Look at her. She’s just so ivory white.”
Lady to Cheer: “You need to get out in the sun.”
Cheer: “Yeeeeahhh…about that. It doesn’t matter how much time I spend in the sun. If I go to the beach, I will freckle and burn. There’s no fighting this awe-inducing pastiness. I will never, unfortunately, look like you.”
Lady: “Well, my, my, my…”
Cheer: “OK then. If we’re done with this totally inappropriate topic, I’d love to take your order so you’ll stop staring at me.”