Tuesday, April 28, 2009

I shouldn't be allowed in public

I am not sure when my hair got so long. I swear, it multiplied while I was sleeping. Or, someone is sneaking Miracle Grow into my shampoo. I am not sure which of those two it is, but it certainly has nothing to do with the fact that the only place my hair goes is up into a haphazard pony tail most days. Even more absurd is thinking it has anything do with fact that I haven’t really dried or straightened my hair in months. When I dried it and straightened it today, I was astounded to discover the extra foot of hair I acquired.

Today I was also wearing a shirt with a much deeper neckline than I traditionally sport. You know, one that could technically be classified as cleavage-revealing on someone else. However, on me, it’s just a shirt with an awkwardly low neckline and no cleavage to be found.

After work, I decided to stop and get something to eat prior to teaching (you know, work #2, what supports the shopping habit I have). I had some extra time and went into a little café to savor some quiet time and a good meal before class. Dining alone doesn’t bother me at all. Despite that, dining alone is disconcerting due to the occasional gauche reaction from a fellow diner, which makes me feel like I should be uncomfortable dining alone. Apparently my solo dining status is of greater concern to them than it is to me. Those people apparently don’t recognize the beauty of quiet time. So, dining alone does provide some level of awkwardness as a semi-questionable social activity in the public eye.

So, I am sitting in the café, inconspicuously eating my Cherry Chicken Salad, when I feel something crawl down the front of my shirt.

I might have yelped a little loudly.

I might have began wildly patting, brushing, and beating my chest.

I might have stood up, attempting to fling this predatory creature from my body utilizing effort that should be reserved for evicting a swine-flu carrying visitor.

Much too late, I might have realized that it was a perfectly lovely strand of hair that had rather unexpectedly migrated into the front of my shirt.

10 comments:

C. Beth said...

"Mabel, look at the crazy lady in the corner!"

"I know, Harold! No wonder she always eats alone."

MarjnHomer said...

LOL. That happens to me always. with the hair. but its even worse when I see a bug in the tub or somewhere and kill it and afterwards still feel its creepiness on my skin like its crawling on me even after its dead.

shortmama said...

I cannot tell you how many times I have done the same thing. Fits and all, looking like a loon all for the sake of a hair.

Rachel Cotterill said...

In London they say you can tell a good restaurant if there are solo diners: you know it's good food. I don't know if it still works if they're screaming! ;)

The Rambler said...

Buwahahahahahah.

Seriously.

That was funny.

Just because I've been you.

And I've been the people nudging each other saying..."check out the crazy chic"

You Rock.

Call Me Cate said...

Oh, I've NEVER done that. At least, not yet this morning... And knowing how I react to creepy-crawlies, I'm sure I would've made quite the scene as well.

At least you weren't escorted out and asked not to return. (you weren't, were you?)

Teresa said...

I love dining alone (with a book as my companion)!

Anonymous said...

donate it! :)
jana

Grand Pooba said...

Oh, if you only would have jumped up screaming that there was a spider in your shirt!

I want your hair. Okay? You've got enough to spare, I know you do!

Jeanne said...

What is it about hair that makes it sooo creepy feeling? I hate it when I get one stuck to the inside of my arm; I can't quite locate it, but every time I move my arm I know it's there.

Shuddddder.