I am sure by now you are all wondering what, where and how I will be attending the premier of The Ugly Truth. I will be arriving in style. My hair will be somewhat perfectly quaffed. Well as good as it can get for a nappy headed white girl. I will be wearing a lovely creation from either Écouter (Target) or a snappy ensemble from Marshall’s. I was going to wear a vintage piece but I can’t remember where I stored it when I cleaned all the cute thin clothes from my closet. You notice I said “thin” clothes, believe me that is relative. What I should say is thinner. As in before I was fat but I am thinner now.
Let’s go back to the hair portion. I got to see one of my favorite people today. She gives really great shampoo. She is the amazing Mz Lola Cabana. She was a show girl with yellow ribbons in her hair and a dress cut down to there. No wait, wrong Lola. She takes my frizzed out fuzz and tames it. She fluffs and puffs and pulls and rolls until it actually resembles something close to hair and not a Brillo pad. She kept introducing me around the salon as “This is my friend Gladys. She is famous.” You see Lola and I believe if you state it will be so. I need to take this opportunity to tell you that not only is Lola the “hair whisperer” but she also designs, creates and writes. She is multi-talented that one. I felt so revered. I felt so important. I felt so famous. Thank you Lola of the Cabana.
I then rushed off to find something to wear that was neither flip flops nor cut off jeans. Here is where I will confess one of my deepest secrets. I am a tightwad. I hate spending money on myself. I like to look cute and wear stylish clothes but I had to spend money on them. I guess I just keep waiting for them to magically appear in my closet. I hope to open my closet one day and find it full of all those men I want to dress me. I dream I would slide back the door and there staring at me would me Michael, Isaac, Kenneth and Calvin not to mention a few Versace’s and some Cavali’s. Oh I’m not biased. I wouldn’t mind a few women in my closet too. Some Coco’s, Lily and even a few Vera’s. (For you men out there those are all clothing designers) Unfortunately that never happens. I instead look at my watch which says it’s now after five p.m. I stop at the first store and browse through their over stuffed racks of the latest fashions. I look around in crisis because I have no idea what to wear. I spot this woman who looks like one of the Real Housewives of Orange County. She is dressed to the nines and has all the right accouterments. I meekly say “excuse me”. She turns and looks at me and says “yes”? I clear my throat and push through “would you wear this to a movie premier?” RHOOC looks at the dress and then back at me in my schlumpadinka wear and says “you buy a lot of black don’t you?” Well yeah. I mean it’s easy, it’s slimming and did I say it’s easy? If you buy everything either black or white then it’s like buying garanimls. Do you remember them? They were kid’s clothes that had animals on the tags and all you had to do was match the animals for coordinating outfits. So here I am in my zebra/zebra outfit holding a black dress looking once again like my boxer after hearing “doggie doo”. RHOOC pulls out a bright green dress with some schmaltz on the top and says “try this one, instead. You need some color.” I looked at the bright green dress and said what the heck. The only problem was there really isn’t much of a dress there so I said “would you wear a sweater with it?” She smiled that knowing smile and said “Grandma’s and schlumpadinka’s wear sweaters over great dresses.” I smiled and whispered “yeah, I guess so.” Off to the dressing room I headed. I tried on the green dress and it wasn’t too bad and the price wasn’t too bad. I mean the dress could have been a burlap bag if it were a dollar ninety-nine I would have probably called it perfect. I am standing in the dressing stall when I hear a knock on the door. I open it to find RHOOC standing there. “So how does it fit” she asked. Now I have to tell you I was touched. I was verklempt. I did the perfunctory twirl and she agreed it would work.
Then it was off to my second stop, Ecouter or for those of you who call it by its American name Target. I needed a new set of hot rollers. Oh shut up they do to still make them. I just don’t get it. I mean I bought my last set when I was in high school just a mere hundred years ago, you would think they would still work. I guess they just don’t make things the way they used to anymore. So I am standing in line waiting for the woman in front of me to check out. She is purchasing gardening things for children. She must have had two children because she purchased two of everything one in pink the other in red. When it came to the gardening gloves the pink ones rang up at the sale price but the red ones remained full price. She questioned the clerk why she rung the red ones up at full price. The clerk looked at her and stated that the red ones weren’t on sale. The woman began to moan then she began to rail on the clerk. She began to curse and carry on. I again look at my watch, it is now after seven. I listened to this woman vetch about a difference of about a dollar. Now I know things are tight. I realize we are in a recession. I understand people are squeezing a penny until it turns into a dime. What I don’t understand is what good she thought yelling and cursing at the poor little clerk would do.
Now I’m on a deadline. You see just like in college if I’m not home by 10:00 pm I get locked out. No Kahuna is not a dictator. It is the park we are staying in closes the gate at 10 and you can’t get in. I’m doing the math in my head trying to add up how much longer it will take to check out, get packed, eat then travel back to my humble covered wagon parked in the oaks. It is going to be tight. I then turned my attention back to the debacle that is unfolding in front of me. The woman was now red as a beet and I was able to count her pulse from the vein protruding on her forehead. That’s it I had had enough. I could take no more. Out of my mouth poured forth my thoughts. My filter had fallen off and I began to speak “Does it really matter? I mean it’s a dollar. Just don’t buy the gloves if it is too much. Is it worth yelling and screaming at this poor clerk who doesn’t have the authority to change the price? Is it worth having a heart attack over? I mean honestly it is just some kid’s gloves.” The woman stopped her diatribe and looked at me like I had just grown a third eye. She looked at me and said “I have two children I can’t just take one of them gloves and not the other.” Am I the only one who sees how simple this is? No I don’t mean go home and lock one in the closet while the other gets to play with their new pink gloves. I mean don’t buy the gloves or do and stop complaining. I smiled my sweetest smile and said “then don’t buy the gloves. They won’t miss them. Really it’s not worth making yourself and everyone else miserable. I mean what are you going to do if you don’t get the red gloves for the sale price? Are you going to go home and throw them at your kid and say here are your damn gloves? Really it’s not hard. Just buy the gloves and go home and love your kids.” She stared at me and then turned to the clerk and said “ring them up.”
That’s my day in a nut shell. I’m the nut and the world is my shell. Next installment will be from Hollywood.
Saturday at the Maul
15 hours ago