Dignity and... Pillow Pets

So for Christmas, my sister had the wonderful idea of getting a pillow pet for me; I was content with the plan, because many people at school had also brought their pillow pets on PJ day. I knew I could  be cool just like them. The only problem was my sister and I went to the mall at the same time to buy presents for our parents. When we went to the pillow pet kiosk, there were at least fifteen little 4-year-olds jumping around in ecstasy because they were soon to get a pillow pet of their own. My sister and I nonchalantly in line, trying not to draw any more attention than a 14 and a 17 year old standing in a line for a stuffed animal should. When it was finally time for us to pick out our pillow pet, the man running the stand was a hunk with a handlebar mustache. When we walked up, I could see a combination of piety and confusion in his eyes. What poor teenagers should have to buy a pillow pet? When my sister picked out the green dinosaur for me, I quickly told my sister I wanted the orange pterodactyl. This gave the cashier the blatant notion that I was person receiving the pillow pet, not one of the younglings jumping around who may have been mistaken for our younger sibling (which I have none of). After our purchase, it is wonderful how much dignity one can have while carrying an orange pillow pet around a busy mall...