Once upon a time (that would be Tuesday), there was a woman with rather BIG hair full of curl (that would be me) who excitedly dressed for her hot date (with her husband of 22 years) about to begin in under two hours.
She slithered into her black knit, slim-legged ponte pants, securing them with button below her gravity-induced inner tube.
Over her head with very BIG hair full of curl, she slid an elegant, flowing top with floral print on black background falling precisely at mid-thigh.
She dabbed rosy blush on cheeks, added a bit more eyeliner and mascara and, of course, fluffed her very BIG hair full of curl.
And then came the spray. Yes. The spray.
For when a woman has very BIG hair full of curl, spray is not an option. It’s a mandate.
She then slipped dangling earrings into her one-holed lobes. A bracelet from Tiffany’s (Yes, THE Tiffany’s in NYC) wrapped ‘round her right wrist (enough alliteration for you?).
Her final touch?
Oh yes! We cannot forget to mention her shoes! These black beauties with heels had peep holes allowing her recently painted, dark purple nails to shine through in all their sexy glory. (They might be 56 year-old toenails but at least they are fungus-free.)
Alas, this woman of very BIG hair full of curl was ready for her very hot date.
But then, suddenly, she remembered a most important errand that must be run before meeting her very hot date!
She grabbed her purse and her Nikon 5200 with 18 – 200mm lens, because one particular woman with very BIG hair full of curl cannot leave home without it.
She proceeded south in her car, turned west and, BEHOLD!
There, in front of her?
The most perfect photo op of the week!
The golden hour of sun bathed the field to her left in warm, heavenly light!
She MUST stop her vehicle immediately! She MUST capture this field in pixels!
Hurriedly, she pulled her car to the road’s shoulder and flung open her door. Her extra-long legs covered in black ponte pants swung out. Her black-heeled feet landed firmly on asphalt. She looked both ways. No cars coming either direction.
Camera in hand, she clippety-clopped in her peep-holed black heels across the road. She assessed the scene. Camera to eye, she knew what she must do. For it would not do to take a shot from the side of the road. It was not the right angle. She decided, right then and there . . .
She must become one with the field!
The golden hour of light was fading fast! And on the other side of that ditch full of freshly cut grass was the PERFECT angle for her pixels! So she ventured forth into the ditch, feet still securely bound by black heels.
And then . . .
Without warning . . .
Her black-heeled left foot discovered a deep hole in the ditch, hidden by mounds of freshly cut grass.
Suddenly, this woman of very BIG hair full of curl all dressed up for her very hot date went SPLAT, spread-eagle, face-down, ponte pants and all, into the ditch, with her peep-holed black heels still attached. Her very BIG hair flew forward.
Mortified, hoping no human had witnessed her sudden disappearance into the ditch for which she was seriously over-dressed, she rapidly righted herself, looking both ways on the road. To her horror, she discovered not one, but TWO vehicles with not one but TWO occupants in each. Indeed, they had stopped. All eight eyes fixed themselves on the sighting of wild life emerging from the ditch.
The woman’s rapid attempt to brush off all freshly cut field grasses proved ridiculously lame. She discovered that black knit ponte pants act like Velcro when coming in contact with mounds of freshly cut field grass in a ditch.
And her hair?
The hair she had fluffed into place and sprayed with EXTRA HOLD Aveda Control Force?
Well, her hair grew to a greater height and width than she had ever known possible and the EXTRA HOLD Aveda Control Force spray helped glue the embedded, freshly cut field grass firmly in place.
Trying to hold her dignity as firmly as the Aveda Control Force held the grass in her hair, and despite the great pain in one black-heeled left foot, the woman stood tall in that ditch. Chin up, eyes fixed on her vehicle, she stopped brushing herself off. Instead, she climbed out of that ditch and clippety-clopped back across the road in full view of two vehicles with two ogling occupants in each with all eyes staring. She refused lengthy eye contact, focusing instead on maintaining proper, erect posture, acting as if the entire scene was scripted and performed exactly as written with Academy Award-winning flair.
She opened her car door, sat her ponte-panted, grass-embedded rear down on the driver’s seat, closed the door, turned on the engine, lowered the window, waved on the spectators, and hoped to God she didn’t know any of them.
Later that evening, while enjoying a romantic dinner for two in a fine Italian restaurant, her very hot date discovered grass. What in the heck happened to his very hot date? She had grass in her very BIG hair! Well, respectable woman that she is, she could not lie and proceeded to tell the entire story. He laughed. He wouldn’t be laughing in a few hours.
Around midnight, this woman who had by then slipped out of her heels and ponte pants, awoke in agony. Her left foot throbbed, shooting pain clear up her de-ponte-panted leg and into her lower back, slightly below her gravity-induced inner tube. This would not do! She could not survive the night with her very hot date, fast asleep by her side while she suffered so!
So what did she do?
She woke her very hot date, begging him to get dressed, go down the hall, and do whatever it might take to secure two anti-inflammatory pills and an ice bag. Not wanting to disappoint his very hot date, he did exactly as asked because she could not walk and secure help for herself.
Pills in stomach, she settled back into bed with Ziploc bag full of ice and water under left foot, her hot date now under cover, ready for slumber.
Not long after, she felt wetness. Indeed, the Ziploc bag had burst, saturating her side of the bed with very cold water. Alas, she vacated her spot and crowded her very hot date on his side of the bed which wasn’t exactly comfortable since this woman overheats often and quickly being that she is 56 years old.
After the very long night with her very hot date, this woman of extra BIG hair full of curl also had puffy eyes and a large limp. Very sexy.
Plans for a hike in the woods on the most gorgeous autumn day EVER were abandoned in favor of a dark movie theatre where the woman and her very hot date had the theatre all to themselves for three hours.
Moral of the story? When you find yourself in a ditch with a hidden hole that messes you up, leaves you in pain, blows up your hair and threatens to ruin your life (at least for the next 24 hours), fret not! You’ll have a good story to tell.