Tuesday, February 16, 2016

The True Test of Manhood

Do you ever find yourself in a place, where normally it is not acceptable to be, but then you have a genuine reason to be in that place, but everything inside you says you shouldn't be in said place?

Let me explain.

So, I am in a play and have to wear make-up. And for the first time in my life I have had to go to a place that feels so foreign to me, The Make-up Aisle.

I get so self conscious in the make-up aisle, as soon as another human comes walking down the aisle, I bolt like a startled deer. No joke, I have made three separate attempts to buy the required make up and have ended up running to my car in absolute panic, rocking and crying in the back seat.

So yesterday, was the final day I could go to get my make-up before the our dress rehearsal. So I drove to the Walmart, took a deep breath and plunged into the make-up aisle.

I was immediately overwhelmed with the the selections, colors, and different items of make-up for purchase.

Wouldn't you know as soon I walked in the aisle that a friendly Walmart sales person approached and said, "Sir, can I help you with anything?"

Inside  I wanted to say,
"Yes, you can. Can you just look at my skin tone and tell me, am I a Nude complexion or Nude Beige? Cause I want to say I am a Nude Biege.

Also, what is the difference between an eyebrow pencil and eye liner because they look like the same thing. 

If I need a light "blush" what does that mean? 

And can you show me what you have in a more masculine lip stick?"

But being a man, I said, "Nope, I think I got it." Which was a complete fabrication.

So finally, after 2 or 14 hours in the Cover Girl aisle, with various cosmetic products and equipment in hand, I headed to a cashier for a dreaded check out.

So I laid out my sundry of cosmetic items on the conveyor belt and just prayed she would just ring me up without making eye contact...like all Walmart employees do. But no, she looked at me and said, "Are you buying this make-up for your wife?"

Why would she assume it was for my wife?

I wanted to say, "Look Michelle, no it's not for my wife, it's for me, OK. I am in a play and I am playing the role of a 20 year old, and guess what? I am 40, so excuse me for trying to hide my crows feet and the dark circles under my eyes with a little concealer . And another thing, a lot of famous, masculine actors have to wear make up, people like David Bowie (may he rest in peace), Pee-Wee Herman, and RuPaul...OK, maybe these are not the best examples to site. How dare you  make the assumption it was for my wife, madame. I am a man who wears make up and I am not a shame!"

What I really said, was, "Um, yep, it's, a, for my wife."

It takes a big man to stand alone in the Cover Girl aisle, friends, a big man. And I am a big Man!

Maybe I am born with it.
Maybe it's Maybelline!

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

The Blind Date Add On

So the other day my coworker was trying to line me up on a blind date, as all good coworkers do.

She gave me the typical run down about this girl she wanted to set me up with, how we had a lot in common, how tall she is, how she had like two masters degree and knits bandages for Syrian refugees, etc.

And then she added this little caveat which seemed oddly out of place, "Oh, and she is really pretty, but my husband thinks she looks like a witch." 

"OK, Yep,...wait, what was that?"

"Yeah, my husband thinks she looks like a witch. But you are going to love her."

So, I am not an expert on setting up people, but you might not want to lead off with the phrase, "I want to set you up with my friend who looks like a witch." In fact, leave the similarities to her being "witch-like" out of the conversation all together. When you describe your friend as a witch, you are driving a nail into her "blind date" coffin, or driving a stake into her heart, if she is in fact a witch...or is that a vampire, it's hard to say.

Even if this women was the most beautiful women in the world, the men that go on a blind date with her will spend the whole evening trying to figure out why her friend described her as a witch, because men are pigs and are superficial that way.

Any way, I am really excited for our date. I can't want to see if she is a good witch or a bad witch.

Monday, February 1, 2016

The Bell Ringer

Do you ever go to Wal-Mart and your entrance and exit strategy is correlated upon the location of the Salvation Army bell ringer?

Now don’t get me wrong friends, I believe in the Salvation Army and all the good they do, but seriously who carries around cash any more to drop into the bucket?

And let’s be honest, it does cause some unnecessary guilt when I don't donate, for which I do not need at this time in my life.

So what do I do? Well like most Americans I simply avoid the cause of pain and discomfort by completing avoiding the Bell Ringer all together.

So as I pulled into to the Wal-Mart I noticed the Bell Ringer was stationed at the east entrance, so naturally I walked the extra hundred yards to the west entrance. And I chuckled to myself, “This is too easy, how cleaver I am?”

After I finished my shopping I was heading for the west exit, when to my shock, guess who was stationed in front of my only escape from the Wal-Mart?

Yes,OK, well yeah…obviously the Wal-Mart greeter was there…who in and of itself is a bit of an obstacle to avoid, but no, the Salvation Army Bell Ringer had moved and was blocking my exit, armed with his little bell and red bucket!

His gaze met mine and his eyes seemed to say, “I know what you did to avoid me and so help me I will beat you down before that ever happens again. Now you shall not pass until you drop in your pennies three.”

So for whatever reason, and I know this sound childish, I hid in the pharmacy until I could sneak out in a large group without making eye contact with the Bell Ringer. 

From behind I felt his gaze burning into my back. And I know that if I didn’t make it to my car in a hurry he would shot lasers out of his eyes and kill me, ala the sphinxes in The Never Ending Story.

But I say, until the Salvation Army puts debit cards on the sides of their buckets I shouldn’t feel guilty.