Helena – this one's for you!
A few weeks ago I was chaotic and out of control. Briefcase had been traveling for a few back-to-back weeks. I'd overbooked my schedule as I'm prone to do. I decided one evening to pick up "to-go" food on the way home from PR's baseball practice. I couldn't bare the idea of junk food. As we were leaving practice I called in an order to a nice family restaurant outside of Money Town. This restaurant specializes in ribs, chicken, etc. Real food vs. junk food. It was a smoldering hot day and I ended up ordering salads. I know, boring – right?
PR and I walked in to the restaurant to pick up our food. There was a short line back at the "to go" counter. A couple was waiting ahead of us. The man was about 75. His female companion was maybe 30 at the most. It was impossible not to notice them.
She had bleach blonde hair, pretty much the color of Marilyn Monroe's. Her fingernails were bright, stripper red. She had the biggest, longest fake eyelashes I've ever seen a person wear. I guess her face was attractive, but to be honest all I could really see when looking at her were those enormous fake eyelashes. They were giant fans on her eyes and she batted them constantly.
"Give them the benefit of the doubt, it might be his granddaughter," I thought to myself.
I knew better, of course. Not two minutes had passed until she latched onto him in a decidedly ungranddaughter-like fashion. She batted her eyes at him and started talking nonstop baby talk to him.
"Daddy, why is it taking so long to get our food?" she whined in her sticky-sweet baby voice.
I immediately lost my appetite. I tried to look away, but it was impossible. I hate women who dumb down. Daddy? It's embarrassing to all living females. (Although, I'm pretty sure she was really, really stupid in the first place.) Baby talk to a 75 year old man? Really, if you want to play daddy sex games you need to save it for the privacy of your own home. Please.
His response to her was just as nauseating as I watched him fawn all over her. He consoled her and soothed her as if the two of them were facing a life and death situation. Because, omigod, how awful for them to have to wait five minutes for their to-go order. Seriously?
A minute later she was rubbing her body all over him.
"I don't think I can wait another minute to go home with you Daddy," she purred loudly.
I thought about covering PR's ears. He, however, was so exhausted from baseball he didn't seem to be noticing. Then I wondered if Gramps had remembered to take his Viagra. I had a feeling he had. They were all over each other.
Right then our salads were ready and we were called ahead of the couple to pay. As I pulled out my wallet I could not avoid the sight of them. She had her tongue in his ear in the middle of the nice, family restaurant. Visions of old man earwax popped into my head and I nearly vomited on the spot. "Daddy" was getting an ear job and he seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.
PR and I left a minute later. I admit, I'd completely lost my appetite.
I tried to dismiss the encounter from my mind. Three days later, however, I encountered eyelash woman again. I pulled into our local gas station to fill up my car. Less than thirty seconds later a brand new red Corvette pulled up next to me. Eyelash Lady hopped out to get gas. She glanced at me and then looked over at me again. I have the feeling she was wondering where she'd seen me before. And yes, she was still wearing those gigantic fake eyelashes.
As we filled up our cars I studied her. Nice body, toned, clearly she works out. Fake tan and fake, perky, large breasts which are a dime a dozen around here. She wore expensive and revealing clothes. As she held the gas pump I saw, for the first time, the jewelry she wore. Lots and lots of jewelry, but the most staggering was an enormous diamond ring. There are a lot of huge diamond rings in South Orange County, and generally they don't faze me in the least anymore. This diamond was staggering however. I couldn't help it as my mind tried to calculate how many carats it must be. I decided, at the very minimum, it was a 10 carat diamond. At least.
I made an impulsive decision to take her picture with my cell phone. (Yes, a true blogger at heart!) My car was full, but she was still gassing up hers. I hopped into mine, grabbed my cell phone and tried to inconspicuously take her picture. She caught me! Yes, she turned to face me and glared at me. I hope she thought I was just trying to take a photo of her nice, shiny, red car and not her in all her eyelash glory. In any case, I didn't get the photo. I do, however, have a strong mental image of her that just won't fade.