Picture it. The year was 1980. Give or take a year. I was working as a secretary (wince) in an Automotive/Hardware store. We sold fishing licenses. I had an office in the back of the building with a glass window. One with the little circle cut out for talking to customers through.
I was young, overworked and underpaid. A gentleman came back and barked through the glass, "Is this where I buy a fishin' license?"
I mumbled affirmative and walked around my desk to the drawer with the little tackle box. (How appropriate).
I placed the carbon between the sheets. Not looking up at the man I started asking the long line of questions. Name, address, age, blah, blah, blah.
Eye color - "some answer I don't recall"
Hair color - silence.
A little louder - HAIR COLOR - silence.
Sigh. HAIR COLOR!????? - silence.
Deep breath on my part. One more time. Purse the lips like a spinster librarian. Clenched teeth. H-A-I-R C-O-L-O-R! - silence.
Finally, I look up. He was bald. No hair. I felt like a shit, but I was good at not showing it. Christ, I was such a prude back then.
I wrote down the only thing I could think of.
bald.
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Another picture from yesterday.
Sunburst through the trees.
And, this big baby won't let me alone for one minute.
She is such an attention hog.
Me, me, me! So, here she is in all her wonderful glory.
'Rolling in clover' so to speak.
Our Sable.
No need to wonder what she is thinking.
'After this, I get a treat, right?'
Coming from the speakers: You're kidding, right? It's not even 5 a.m.!
2 comments:
As soon as I retire, that is the way my hair color is going! Not bald but grayish white.
Amen to that! My hair is really looking bad. I had better do the roots, and soon. I hate the smell.
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