Saturday, October 9, 2010

a little corny

Makeover

“Well, turn around. Let’s see what we can do with the bangs.” Jane pivoted to face the bathroom mirror. She’d been a victim of a free shopping mall makeover and her date, her first in 17 years, was due in less than 10 minutes.

“Oh God, Oh God.” Jane croaked, velvet black streams lined her face.

“Now stop that. They’re all right.”

“Look how short they are! I look like the first Mrs. Ronald Reagan!”

“Honey, now stop it! Let me ask you this: Do you have any kind of headband?”

Yvonne bent at the waist, sparing her swollen knees and rummaged through Jane’s wicker organizer under the sink: her brushes, clips, shampoo-conditioner-in-one free samples she’d never use.

“What about this?” Yvonne resurfaced with a plastic headband that still clutched a few strands of blond hair.

“That’s my granddaughter’s! I can’t fit into that! I have to do something now. Oh God, Oh God, he’ll be here in 6 minutes!” Jane clutched her head in the international symbol for all is lost.

“Don’t panic. There’s still hope. You said he was 65, right?”

“Yes.”

“How fast do you thing he can move? Come on. He’ll be late. Let’s see.”

Yvonne dropped the lid on the toilet and sat heavily. She pawed a magazine out of the holder next to her began flipping through pages.

“Yvonne!” What on earth are you doing?”

Startled, Yvonne dropped the Marie Claire. She resisted the urge to scold Jane for frightening her and said with utter conviction, “It’s Spring, right? Let’s go fresh and natural! Wash your face. All of that junk has to go. I’m doing a sable liner on your top lids only, dusky rose on your lips and we’ll just flat iron your bangs for length and sweep them to side!”

Jane’s expression morphed from crazed panic to blindly gullible.

“That sounds OK.” She sniffed and wiped her trembling fingers across her face, a mess of tears and cosmetics.

Just then, the doorbell sounded and Jane’s dog sprang to life from his spot on the loveseat. He barked savagely and his delicate poodle names tapped code into the entry way tiles: intruder! Jane groaned wearily and reached for the soap, watching steam rise from the basin.

“That a girl. I’ll get your beau a nice glass of Chardonnay then come back and make you beautiful!” Yvonne kissed her a wink and danced out to greet Jane’s date.

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