Hey blog… I know it’s so 2005 but every so often I get the pull to write in you… usually it’s for some monumental happening or to remind myself of the minutiae of my daily life so I don’t bore a hole through my eyeball out of sheer and utter boredom. Sometimes it’s because I like to journal, and let’s be honest, this is basically the only journal I’ve ever kept up consistently. That handwritten one I started in 1st grade is like 7 pages in… which would be good and all, except I’m 39… not 7-1/2… you can see my dilemma.
So, why did I pick today, January 15, 2018? Is it to update the world on my holiday happenings? The holiday where my entire family got sick with the blueblonic plague and I managed to not get it and survived to tell the tale of how I had to dodge coughing and sneezing and puking and all manner of nastiness floating through the airwaves and one day I ran out of Clorox wipes and I almost anxietied off the face of this Earth? I know you’re intrigued…
Or am I about to tell about the time I took a trip to the beaches of California where-in I crashed an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting on the beach one early morning and almost blended in, except for the fact that I didn’t because they didn’t offer me any alcohol-free carrot cake. Intrguing, yes, but nah… that’s not the reason.
I could tell about the adventures of Baby Bubby and Auntie Whitty Woo and how we got to hang out with neighbor Thomas at the jump park and McDonald’s… and how they’re both still alive to tell the tale! You’re welcome. Nope… that’s not it.
Instead, I’m about to tell the tale of how I went to Great Clips this past week to get my 3 hairs trimmed and almost got accosted by some weird, creepy drunk dude. Yep… that there is some newsworthy blogging crap… I’ll tell you right now! And yes, I said Great Clips… sue me… I get my 3 hairs cut for $15 plus tip… and I seem to save $200, mother and Lindsay! 😛
So, anyway, I went to Great Clips and when I arrived there was this dude in the parking lot, just hanging out with some other dude who was talking on his cellphone… No big deal… it’s winter and he’s wearing shorts and a short sleeved T-shirt, talking on the cellphone outside… whatever floats your boat people from Utah. When I got out of my car to go into the salon, the dude not talking on his phone decided to go in too. There was a long line, a 30-minute wait I was told, but there were also 6 or 8 girls cutting hair, so the line would move pretty quickly. I stood beside him while I was waiting to check in… he had a stench about him… a strong one. Alcohol… definitely a lot of alcohol and he seemed unsteady on his feet, swerving and bobbing around. He was also humming to himself. I checked in and then out of the blue this mystery man pointed to a pretty young blonde girl who happened to be sweeping up the hair off the floor and said really loudly, “I want her to cut my hair… oh yeah… her!” And then he made this low cackling noise like some psychotic witch person. If I were that girl, I’d have started running right then and there and never stopped until I hit Bermuda. One of the other stylists tried to explain to him that she was just the receptionist and was not licensed to cut hair, but he wouldn’t hear it. He was insisting that she still try to cut his hair or else he’d leave (okay, see ya… let me help you out). That matter got dropped for a minute, but then he started waltzing around the salon standing behind random stylist and their customers and laughing that weird, creepy, cackly laugh like he was some villan from a Batman movie. He was told several times he needed to sit down, but he didn’t.
One of the stylists asked if he was “John” (name changed to protect anonymity) and he insisted that wasn’t his name (side note: it definitely was). She asked him what his name was, and he replied that he was “Scooby”. As in Doo? I almost asked. The stylist tried to get him to sit down so she could cut his hair and then he’d leave everyone alone, but he was back to insisting that the receptionist be the one to cut his hair and he still wouldn’t take no for an answer, so she took me back instead and as the girl was trying to cut my hair her hands were shaking so bad she could barely do it. He resumed his waltz around the shop standing creepily behind people and cackling. Finally, my stylist went up to him and told him he’d need to leave or she’d have to call the police. To which he loudly called her an expletive delete and then staggered on out the door. About 5 minutes later, his friend, cellphone shorts dude, came into the shop wondering where “John” was… and he was informed that he’d been sent away because he’d been harrassing everyone. So, now “John” is all wandering around outside in 30-something weather with no coat and only 1/4 of a brain drunk off his aspercreme. If you see him, don’t let me know… I’m still having nightmares about that creepy cackle of his… y’all don’t even know!
Meanwhile… today starts week 2 of the new healthy habits challenge I signed up for. Change is good… It’s been nice to have the accountability back after my not-so-stellar holiday eating smorgasboard.
Y’all… be prepared for mulleted BatBoy… flying through the towns saving all of the kitties… until bed time… and then regular Batman takes over.