Things that did not especially make my week
Sing it, Barbra. And please pass the tweezers.
My 20th high school reunion is next month, so maybe I’m taking things just a little too hard, but surely some people should think before opening their big fat mouths.
I know, a lot happens in twenty years. I had many mistaken notions in high school, notions that have taken great pleasure in biting me in the backside as I get older. Probably the most amusing was that I was “just a thin person by nature,” for instance. Now my naturally thin self has got 25 (ish) extra pounds.
Um, ha.
I also assumed the acne would go away when I was no longer a teenager. Not only did it not go away, but it now lives side by side with wrinkles and sun spots. As a wise Tibetan monk once said, “Ha-ha fucking-ha.” Wait, was that a Tibetan monk or a 1980s comedian in a sparkly jumpsuit? Nevermind, I’ve said all I want to say.
Except I want to say more. Let me also say to whoever might be listening (I’m looking at you, God), I’m not sure how all this happened, but I can only hope I’m not the only person from my class who has aged, otherwise a tragic scene is about to go down. Think me, a can of Reddi Whip, and “The Way We Were” on a cassette player. Maybe a box of tissues, but more likely I’ll just wipe my nose on my muumuu.
As I was saying, in light of everything, perhaps I’m just a little bit sensitive about the events that have taken place over the last week. Three of them in particular made me stop and wonder about the basic goodness of humanity.
First I stopped at Walgreens and bought dishwashing detergent, shampoo, and for fun, two bottles of nail polish – one red and the other a bright iridescent green. The fifty-something cashier with loads of makeup looked down and said . . .
1. “Wow, you’re going with bright colors in your old age, huh?”
Yes, I am. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d better get going. The cats get angry if I don’t make it home for date night, and I think I just took a little drip-drip in aisle 5, if you know what I mean.
A few days later, my next-door neighbor came calling, “Yoo-hoo! Helllooooooo!” at my screen door. That part isn’t unusual, nor is the fact that she was getting ready to give me stuff. My neighbor is 70 years old and likes to come next door and see if I can use something that she’s decided doesn’t suit her anymore. It’s very sweet, and she’s a good friend. But this time she handed me a shirt, size M, that still had tags dangling.
2. “Now I know this will fit you . . .” she said (and here comes the great part) “because it’s REALLY BIG.”
And there was no mistaking the “REALLY BIG.” She was waving her arms and opening her eyes super wide to indicate just how big the shirt would need to be in order to make it in my world. Aw, thanks! I was going to just get fitted for a parachute, but this saves me a trip.
Finally, when I went to get my hair cut by my regular stylist, this woman — who has known me for years and watched my children grow since toddlerhood — prepared to wax my eyebrows, peered into my face, and said, super casual-like,
3. “Should we go ahead and do the mustache too?”
The mustache. Just like that, like it’s nothing. Like hey, can I get you some coffee or a magazine?And by the way, should I remove the man-hair on your face?
How many responses are there to that question, anyway? Fifteen seconds ago I didn’t even know I had a mustache, but now of course I want you to “do the mustache.” In fact I’ll double your tip if you do the mustache. As Mr. Miyagi used to say, girlfriend needs to wax that shit right off. (There’s a chance I need to brush up on famous quotations.)
To recap, according to various women around me I am
- old;
- fat;
- hairy.
On second thought, I think I’d like that Reddi Whip right now.
Note: OK, I actually wrote this over a week ago, before the whole carbon monoxide situation took over as the main thing that did not make my week. So this is an outdated list. It still counts, man. Still counts.
You must be all small in your town for medium to be “REALLY BIG”…. I think Walgreens clerks are trained to humiliate their customers. When I was in my 40s, I threw a package of condoms into my basket. Didn’t know how much they were when the clerk asked me. so she held them up high and yelled to the back of the store for someone to tell her how much the so-and-so condoms were. There was a long line of people behind me….Hope you enjoy your 20th.
OMG. You crack me up. I recently had the mustache thing happen to me and you know what I said. “No.” I died a little later in the evening, but I held it together there in the chair.
That cashier needed to get punched. Did’ya? Did’ya?
Oh Jaysus…
OK, hard to admit in public (is this public?) but I’m one of the blessed brunettes whose mustachio appeared in puberty. List of horrible things people said to me over the years:
1) Age 13, From an adult, friend of my parents: “Hey there, lady, you’re growing a bit of mustache there.” I am proud to this day that I retorted angrily, “Practicing for the bearded lady act in the circus” and didn’t speak to him for weeks.
2) Age 16, From an adorable child I was holding and cooing to at the time, “oooh! you has a mustache!” There was pointing and, yes, touching.
3) This one is only sort of terrible, but my beloved, on our third Christmas, offered, gently, tentatively, to give me laser treatment for a Christmas present. Embarrassed but eager, I said yes I really wanted that very much thanks did i have to wait till christmas or could i have it now please.
*sigh*
Oh no, that’s horrible but honestly you haven’t known public humiliation until strangers have loudly speculated how easily babies must fall out of your vagina by this point.
I think I’ve told you this before buy my mom’s Asian friends used to like to sneak into our house and try on my shoes and giggle at how impossibly big they were. Like huge novelty clown shoes!
Su-sieee, I think I would have preferred accidental pregnancy to your Walgreens story. And the medium is humongous! It’s even too big for me, and who even knew that was possible?
Kathy, you’re braver than I am. As to Walgreens, I went into friendly community member mode and just laughed and said “You know it!” to the cashier. Then I snarled in my van.
DragonKat, Who the heck says #1 to someone? #3 is awfully nice, though. Did you have the treatment? What did you think?
Tracy, that is horribly but hilariously offensive (the vagina comment). And I’m sorry you got the white clown feet gene. Even moreso, I’m sorry I got it too.
I feel your pain! This is another vote for skipping my reunion:) Ha. Thanks for the laugh.
You are gorgeous, Tara!! And always will be. But I understand about the fricking extra weight. At the end of April, I truly believed that, somehow, I would lose 30 lbs by my June 25 high school reunion. Let’s see, since that time, I’ve lost a stunning 3 f-ing pounds. Trust me, you will see things that will shock you at your reunion. My favorite people are those who try way too hard to look good.
And, Dragonkat, I loved your 13-year-old comment!!
Sara, I keep thinking of skipping mine, but I really want to see everybody!
Carol, you’re very kind. And a liar too, but mostly kind.