All you unmarried girls gather ‘round the cocktail shaker. Because Aunt Marsie is about to give you some advice that may save you a lot of heartache.
Remember your mother warning you to always wear nice underwear because you never knew when you might be in an accident? Well, I’m here to take that one well-shod step further. If you are single and looking (so to speak), don’t try to get away with going anywhere without looking your absolute best.
Why? Allow me, (in the charmingly accented and immortal words of Ricky Ricardo) to ‘splain how I know.
Once upon a time before I was a happily married lady, my professional association held its annual Christmas party at the Brown Hotel in Louisville, Kentucky. The grand ballroom was strung up with thousands of tiny lights, there was champagne, gourmet food, a full orchestra…it was a romantic night and (oh waaah is me), I was there all alone.
But always hopeful, I decided that this was an opportunity to go on the prowl. Hey, you never know who you might meet, you know? I had just lost twenty some odd pounds and invested in a cute new little black dress. Time to try it out. I was perfumed and powdered beyond reason. This little girl was so ripe she was about ready to fall off the proverbial tree.
Yada, yada, yada… Well, the party was a bust. I did lots of good networking and handed out some business cards, but there were nothing but couples in attendance. Darn them for being so happy and together during the holidays, I enviously whimpered to myself while getting on the elevator to leave.
So, dejectedly I went back to my room to take a nice long bubble bath and wash my hair. After soaking for a half hour or so, I dried off and put on a flannel nightgown. (Which I remember very clearly because it had red and white candy-cane stripes, a red-nosed reindeer print and a wide, eyelet lace ruffled trim.) Thirsty, I decided to have a Diet Coke and realized that I had drank my last one. The honor bar in the room didn’t have any left and as it was after 2 a.m., room service was closed. It was one of those times when nothing but a Diet Coke will do.
There was a fully stocked concierge room down the hallway. They had a whole refrigerator stocked with soft drinks. I didn’t want to go through the bother of getting dressed just to run down the hall. I mean, it was the middle of the night. Nobody was going to see me, right? So, I came up with a plan.
I put on the panty hose I was going to wear the next day and slipped on my high heels. Then I put my winter coat on over that. As a final touch, I pulled my nightgown hem up so it couldn’t be seen.
Now as for my hair, I’ll admit that it looked like I was wearing a tumbleweed on top of my head, but it was very clean. And there was the small matter of the green Queen Helene Mint Julep Masque I‘d just applied all over my face. But it was just beginning to harden and hey, nobody was going to see me, right? I’d be up that hallway in a flash, grab those Diet Cokes, trot back and be done with it.
Cracking the door open, I peeked up and down the hall. The coast was clear! I strode confidently to the concierge room. The lights were out except for what appeared to be a nightlight in the kitchen. I entered.
“Why there you are. I’ve been waiting for you…”, the most gorgeous man I’d ever or have ever seen in my life intoned. He was wearing a black tuxedo, his tie undone. By the refrigerator light he looked like a cross between Pierce Brosnan and George Clooney. Pheromones surrounded him like an aura.
“You’re late,” he scolded flirtatiously, tapping the face of his watch. “Thought you could sneak down here in the middle of the night without me seeing, didn’t you?” he continued, a straight-white-toothed-dimpled smile playing about his lips.
My single life flashed before my eyes. All the suffering I’d done in the name of vanity had been for naught! There was no wedding ring on his left hand, so chances were that I’d blown it. My one big opportunity to “meet cute” as they say and my tail caught in a trap of my very own making.
What had I been wasting my time and money on if not to get ready for this very warbly-sung Whitney Houston-ish one moment in time? I was marooned, left high and dry without a spec of dewy-finish foundation, lash-lengthening, body-building mascaras and moisturizing lipstick.
All that beauty enhancing stuff had gotten me nowhere! Here I was standing in front of a man who looked like he had just stepped off the cover of a romance novel and me looking a bit like road kill with a green facial mask that had just cracked. They never covered this in Cosmopolitan magazine.
For once, I was speechless.
He handed me my soft drink. I turned to leave. Just then, to add insult to injury my nightgown unfurled under my coat and the hem hit the floor.
Our eyes met. At that moment I truly didn’t know (as my great-grandmother used to say), whether to pee or go blind. Finally he spoke.
“Has anyone ever told you how lovely a flannel nightgown looks with stockings and heels?” he asked, mischievously raising an eyebrow.
I never saw him again even though I made sure I looked like Angelina Jolie at check-out time. But, such is life. He might not have looked so hot himself in the light of day. (At least that’s what I keep telling myself.) But I never got to find out. And that, single ladies is why you should listen to your Aunt Marsie and never go out in public without looking your best, no matter how thirsty you are.
Marsie Hall Newbold, a.k.a. Mrs. Thomas M. Newbold, lives in wedded bliss, using the skills that earned her the “Betty Crocker Homemaker of Tomorrow” award in her Senior year at Highlands High School. When she is not doting over her husband of 17 years, the deliciously nerdy Professor Tom or caring for hearth and home, she works as a publicist getting positive press for her clients. She can be reached at: marsolete@insightbb.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment