is it me? Am I missing something? Is everyone in this little town going stark staring bonkers?
A few days ago I coaxed Boofuls away from his favourite restaurant into a local pizzeria for a change. Not much of a change in all honesty as we just swapped one Italian eaterie for another but hey ho – it was a change of scenery.
Since it was dog training night and I knew I’d be driving later I asked if they had a non alcoholic beer. The answer came back in a dippy, dozy, the wheel’s spinning round but the mouse has buggered off kind of way; ” No, we have this cider though.”
“Is it non alcoholic?”
“Um. No, but it’s only 4.5%.”
“Oh, a normal cider then, I won’t bother, thanks.”
“Right. Ok. Here’s the wine list then.”
Later in the week I was driving from A to B as is my wont when my eye happened upon a youngish, largish – ok, effing huge woman walking up the street. Nothing unusual in that I can hear you say. Indeed. However, let me continue. This particular young woman was dressed in the almost obligatory black leggings,complete with muffin top, trainers and baggy tee shirt ensemble so loved by the denizens of our town. So far so ordinary.
What made me do a double take and what made this particular woman look not a little incongruous was the humungously large tiara she was wearing. A tiara! It must have been six inches high, gold and glittery coming to a nice Jordan-esque peak at the top with a few extra sparkly bits for good measure. I nearly crashed the car staring at it.
It was straight out of an episode of ‘My big fat gypsy wedding.’
Well, she has to be applauded for making an effort to look glamourous. It made my stud earrings look like a proper paltry effort at accessorising.
Still later in the week Lashes and I went for a coffee. As we sipped and chatted I mentioned that as I was feeling under glammed after the tiara incident I was going to pop into the salon across the road for an eyebrow wax. Lashes suggested I go the the new Thai place on the main road as it was cheaper and better. So, with a bit of free time on our hands, off we popped to the Thai salon.
The young man on duty indicated that I sit on the bench seat under the window and he would do my eyebrows there and then. ‘Hhhmm, unusual setup,’ I though as I sat in the indicated spot.
Next thing I know this young man has straddled me! WHAAAAAT!!?!??!
“Calm yerself missus,’ I was thinking, ‘It’s just a different way of doing it, obviously it’s a cultural thing.’
Well, my eyebrows must have been tough little buggers as next thing I know he’s bracing himself with one hand on my decolletage while he whipped off the wax strip taking my wayward eyebrows and my breath away at the same time. It’s fair to say he was very, er, thorough as he waxed the same area several times, each time bracing himself on my ample chest.
So, one eyebrow done, time for the next one. He changed position, straddling me again but this time actually sat on my lap! Oh dear Lord! I thought I was going to faint! Lashes was stood behind him grinning all over her face at my shocked expression. Again he braced himself on my decolletage but this time decided I wasn’t sat on the bench correctly so he indicated that I move up a bit and then helped me by placing his hand on my bum to scoot me over.
Eventually, it was all over. I must say that he did an exceptionally good job of my eyebrows. He gently applied cooling lotion to my eye area with a soft dabbing motion – and then to my chest. Hang on there Mister!
I wasn’t sure if I should call the police and say I’d been assaulted or to leave him a massive tip and book another appointment.
After much deliberation I decided on the latter!