Definitely a horse person: a story from work

I was fortunate enough to work during the evening of Black Friday, after all the madness had relatively died down. Not to mention I'm not working at a major supermarket chain, so there was even less madness. People at a more high-end retail store seem to be a bit more civilized (unlike the Victoria's Secret in the same mall whose windows got broken when while waiting in line a fight broke out between, strangely enough, two men. Oh the funny stories you hear in the break room!)

I have a feeling I shouldn't be telling this, but I couldn't resist... here goes:

Anyway, as I was doing my good sales associate duties, a customer comes out of the dressing room. My initial impression is bodacious. A polo and breech-like pants with what my first thought was genuine riding boots and a drawstring sunhat: something straight out of a horse show. She was older, somewhat outlandish makeup, and as she neared I also noticed the full-seat breeches and the Burghley Horse Trial logos and sponsors all over her polo. And I realized that those boots she was wearing were not the silly fashion kind for people who don't what real riding boots look like (black and lace-up, not brown and covered in weird buckles and too-big in the calves and slouchy, yikes!) but indeed, real riding boots. Polished but some stubborn slivers of dust left in there. Oh, and the riding glove tan lines. Dead giveaway.

Equestrian at 5-o-clock delta delta. I knew I had spotted a horse person. Dressage Queen, likely.

The lady comes over to me and asks where on earth were our shoes? I showed her where they were, on the other side of a polo shirt rack. "Well, why are they so out of the way?" and once she saw them "Why aren't there any boots? All you have are these ugly sneakers!"

She then proceeded to herd another poor associate around looking for this and that. I love helping people, and I have never lost my temper with a customer, nor do I ever feel the need to. With this lady, I probably would've broke out in a cheesy grin leading a pitying laugh before I ever felt the need to lose my temper. She was just too funny in how she conducted herself. In the break room, another associtate asked about her, remarking on her strange ways.

"She was a horse person," I added. "Definitely."

"What makes you think that?"

"Her outfit: the drawstring sun hat, the real breeches and boots, the Burghley polo. Her riding glove tan lines. But mostly her attitude: dramatic, slightly obsessive, and running around like she owned the place and like she was always right. Definitely a horse person."

"Why aren't you like that?"

"Because all horse people are crazy, just in varying degrees. I would like to think that I am at the lower end of the spectrum, she would be at the upper end. The very upper end."