Until You’re Purple In The Face

I’m checking in for my monthly infusion. There are several receptionists, so I don’t often see the same one.

Receptionist: “I like your outfit!”

Me: “Thanks. I was glad to find I had an overshirt that matched the tank top.”

Receptionist: “You look good in purple. You wear a lot of it.”

Me: “I like how some shades bring out my eyes, but I don’t know that I wear it that often.”

Receptionist: “You were wearing it last time and then this time, too.”

Me: “I don’t think so. Last time, I wore the blue shirt over the black with the flowered collar, and the time before was black and red. It has to have been three or four months since I wore purple here and there are only two purple things I’d wear here.”

Receptionist: “Exactly! Like I said, you wore it last time. You should get more.”

Me: “Okay…”

Receptionist: “I just love purple. Is purple your favorite color?”

Me: “No, not since I was little.”

Receptionist: “Well, it should be!”

The receptionist mercifully went to get my paperwork and returned to finish silently, giving me steely-eyed stares because I dared to have a favorite color other than purple.