flattered

This morning at Starbucks I was standing in line with my new scarf over my black corduroy jacket and my silver jeans and my blue sweater, waiting to order my Venti Pumpkin Spice Latte (WITH whip, thank you). And a man, who I have never seen before, or even noticed in the packed little place- came up to me and handed me a note.

At first I thought it was a flyer or something so I took it and smiled and barely glanced down to notice it was the back of a receipt, written in a scrawling hand-

"You are the most perfect shape in the whole world. Everything about you fits, the things you are wearing compliment you in a way that only makes you look more beautiful."

I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed and blushing, then he said, "I don't mean it to be improper at all. I just thought you should know."

And then he left with his latte or coffee or muffin and that was that.

And I was shocked, stunned even, that a perfect stranger would take those two minutes out of his life to tell find a spare receipt from his pocket and scrounge for a pen to write me a note just to tell me that, I am, in fact- perfect just the way I am.