INHIBITED

Inhibited
Elizabeth Willis Barrett………..May 2014

“No thanks, Carolyn,” I say as I dash into the Greenfield Barn Boutique ready for my shift.

“You have to wear it,” Carolyn presses. She is holding a big black witch’s hat. “All the cashiers have to wear hats. How ‘bout a pumpkin one? Would you like that better? We have those, too.” I feel her impatience. “It adds to the ambience,” she continues when I don’t rally, “you know—the holiday feel.”

I look at her with widened eyes and a bit of green in my face which would have gone great with the witch’s hat.

“I can’t!” I hang on to my calm like an unneeded warm sweater. “I can’t wear a hat.” I almost turn to gather up all my beautiful matted quotes that are going to bring me at least $800 at this very popular boutique. If wearing a witch’s hat is required for placement—I’m outta here!

Carolyn turns in disgust and thrusts the hat on a more willing boutique-er. With chagrin as my unwelcome partner, I sit down and ring up my first customer—hat-less.

Inhibited—that’s me! Are some people “hibited” or just “un?” I’m inhibited in many areas. In high school when everyone was saying “boss” and “cool head” and kissing everyone in Student Council, I was still into “Hey, that’s neat!” That was about my only descriptive word. And I definitely wasn’t into kissing—anybody.

I’ve never been able to say the words that are in at the moment. Sometimes it’s because I don’t want to be a follower, a bandwagon rider. “Fannnnntastik!” never made it to my vocabulary and neither did “Awesome!” which is really a shame because those are awesome and fannnntastik words. Other things I can’t say are “end of story,” “easy-peazy,” “bazillion,” “honey,” “darlin’,” “pops” or “let’s partaay!” just to name a few.

At my wedding reception, to each guest I would introduce Brad as “Brad”—I couldn’t say “this is my husband.” He almost determined not to be over that slight inhibition of mine.

And besides not being able to wear silly hats, I can’t put my sunglasses on top of my head or put a pencil behind my ear. Inhibition has eaten into convenience.

And finally, I could never, ever put “LOL” on a Facebook entry.

So, there you have it—inhibition at its finest. LOL!