Oh the Joys of Being a Troll

The toll troll 

Yes, that is right. For those of you who do not know me well enough, my alterego is that of a troll…only on Christmas break and rare occasions in the summer. I am actually a toll troll, collecting from people attempting to cross over into Canada (eh?)

It is a great little job; I can sit there for 6 hours and read, sing songs, do push ups (until a charter bus driver whistled to me because I didn’t hear him pull up…the entire bus could see me on the floor huffing away) and write letters.  I technically need to help people scan their crossing cards and I can stereotype who I will need to help:

Elderly saints and sinners

American women.

I’m sorry, but the men and the Canadian women have it down, but when it comes to running a card under a bar code, I almost always need to help the coequal gender from the United States…WHY IS THAT??

I also get some very…umm…interesting responses from people. As I gave a trucker his change and wished him “Merry Christmas,” (I feel a certain sense of giddy rebellion in using that phrase as most people are using the politically correct “happy holidays.”) He just took his money, interrupted me by hollering “You’re gorgeous!” and then caught himself and mumbled “oh…you too.”

This trend concerns me mainly because he was too old to be my father, but not old enough to be an endearing old man who is excused for unabashed come-ons. The secondary reason it concerns me is because it makes me wonder if I look old enough to be fair game for him.

This concern has been underlined by a sweet elderly woman I met while caroling last night. I shook her hand, asked her a question and wished her a merry Christmas. As I did that, my pastor walked up behind me doing likewise. The lady sweetly raised her eyebrows and asked “Oh, is this your husband?”

I responded with a firm “absolutely not.” Nothing against him, it’s just that he has children my age. What is this saying about me? I’m starting to have neurotic reactions to things such as laugh lines that look like wrinkles or any suspect gray hair.


7 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Kelsea
    Dec 22, 2006 @ 00:16:58

    Hey there!
    I like this layout better than blogger. I think you are starting to look like that troll…
    Just kidding!


  2. Liz
    Dec 22, 2006 @ 02:07:33

    I love Merry Christmas and hate Happy Holidays. My two year old brother keeps wishing everyone a happy kwanza-it’s really funny to take him to an all white neighborhood such as where I live and have him wish all these white little old ladies a Happy Kwanza, and have them give me a dirty look. As to looking older, you are a college graduate now, so that probably has aged you…


  3. Jodi
    Dec 22, 2006 @ 08:31:13

    My little troll…that does sound so much better than Daisy. I think that I have found a new nickname for you!! 😉 How I do love to hear your stories…they always give me something to laugh about.

    By the way…I like the new blog


  4. Daisy
    Dec 23, 2006 @ 02:57:40

    NO…you cannot call me troll! You will be in WAY over your head!


  5. jules
    Dec 23, 2006 @ 03:48:19

    you are as gorgeous as ever, daisy… don’t worry! your blonde hair catches their eyes – yes, that’s it! i’ll just blame it on the “blonde thing.”
    thanks for the laugh! 🙂 love you and miss you… i may call you soon, i need a good “pitstop.”


  6. Sarah
    Dec 23, 2006 @ 20:44:00

    I think you still look like a spring chicken! 🙂 Maybe people just think you look (and act) mature….that would be great, huh?:-)
    Have a great Christmas! I will miss seeing you around campus occasionally.


  7. twenty4karat
    Dec 24, 2006 @ 20:33:37

    Sarah, concerning acting mature, I comiserated with
    “little E” that night in the dining hall when she tackled that boy. The only exception is that embarrassing things like that are excusable when you are that little, not when you are…well…a troll or something.


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