I walked it up to the register and handed it to the clerk.
"I know," I laughed, "Leave it to me to find a book at Anthropologie."
The clerk smirked and responded, "I wasn't thinking that at all. I was noticing the recipe in your bag. Are you a cook?"
The folded card was indeed falling out of my over sized Vera Bradley tote, a remnant of my trip to Ikea.
"Not really," I said. "I'm Swedish and just came from Ikea and like collecting recipes from them to tap into my heritage."
"Oh cool! You just struck me as a person who would throw dinner parties."
And that was it. The coolest compliment anyone had ever given me. I look like a person who would throw dinner parties. I look like a sophisticated type of person. Cultured even. Who can strike up witty conversations and keep guests entertained. A well-dressed person with a cool looking house.
According to that clerk, I had already become the dream version of who I want to be. Sweet!