For the past month or so, my friend Gail has been working in my building as a temp (guess who hooked her up with such a fabulous gig?) and it’s been lovely because we can have lunch together. My frugal self had been skipping a lunch hour to eat at my desk and make the extra five hours of pay each week, but with Gail’s arrival, my sensible self realized that I could make the same money by taking a lunch hour and neglecting to put it on my timesheet. YES.
Today at lunchtime we were having our typically dirty conversation, which ranges in subject matter from analingus to periods to anything that employs the word “f*ck” a lot. Normally I want to distance myself from all the men in blue shirts with whom we share the lunchroom every day; and the shirts are always blue. Sometimes we wonder if there is a special investment bank shirt store that stocks only one shade of blue, occasionally with a white collar for an extra ugly look. On every day but today I want to be the stranger, the shiny penny amidst the corporate trash lying in the lunchroom gutter. Today, however was
As Gail and I were eating our quesadillas with delicious guacamole (Feliz Cinco de Mayo!), everything seemed normal until Gail’s eyes wandered over my shoulder and widened considerably. “Dude, look at this lady’s hair,” she said, and I was imagining some fancy updo or elaborate weave, or something of the sort. I was definitely not prepared for what I saw.
It was shoulder-length, brown, and very straight, parted down the middle with a dramatic uplift on either side, forming a kind of “M” on top of her face. Let me reiterate the part about the dramatic uplift. It was almost like a mad scientist, but really what you expected to see below the “M” was a dog nose and floppy ears. Imagine if Cats were a musical called Dogs and the star of the show was a cocker spaniel. I should have asked for her autograph.
On a more serious note, the season finale of The OC is on tonight at 9pm on Fox!! OMG!! I will be commenting tomorrow.