A Good Hair Day is one of my favorite trivial but very
happy experiences. It isn't world peace, or enlightenment, or the practice of committing random acts of kindness, but it is a special event nonetheless. There
is definitely a shallow end to the pool that is my life, and I'm not
ashamed to admit I play there as often as I can. It's just nice to
be able to savor the sweet surprises that can make all the
difference.
On Saturday morning, I did my tired
husband a solid and drove to the big city to pick up some additional
important items we needed for our pre-St. Patrick's Day corned beef
and cabbage feast that we threw at the restaurant this weekend. If
we need to make an unscheduled trip, he usually goes in early before work
without me, because I hate Sam's Club on Saturday mornings. It's
Amateur Night, all day long on Saturdays. Recreational shoppers clog
the isles, and everywhere I need to be is occupied with a cart
dispensing food samples of heat-and-eat pizza bites or the newest
flavor of microwaveable chicken strips. These carts are usually
surrounded by large families who are feeding everyone lunch by
grazing from cart to cart to cart. Getting what I need to get done in
a short time without accidentally cart-crunching someone's errant
child or granny is my goal.
I'd colored my hair the day before and
didn't hate how my hair looked when I went out the door.
An hour later, as I maneuvered my cart
in a civil but politely determined way toward the frozen fish aisle,
an older couple about my age passed me going the other way. The
pleasant looking man caught my eye, pointed at my head and said "Beautiful hair!" as they passed. I stammered out a surprised
thanks. His wife shot him a filthy look and grabbed his arm
possessively. ( I'm pretty sure I would have done the same if Dan
had said that to a strange women.)
"Cool," I thought, feeling a little more cheerful about the whole trip. I got the fish and headed to the meat case to start digging through the big,uncut ribeye pieces to get the best one. One of the regular meat cutters popped out of his glassed-in work area, glamorous in his white shower cap and lightly blood-stained apron to say hello.
"Have you cut your hair since the
last time you were in? It looks really good," said he.
"Thank you!" said I, grinning
from ear to ear.
I finished the shopping, feeling pretty
darned good about my trip to Sam's. I checked out, and at the door,
the dour-faced guy who checks shoppers receipts against the contents
of their cart gave me a chaste little hug, saying, " There's my
favorite red-head! You look really nice today." Very
non-mashy, but sweetly sincere.
Sadly, I didn't have the presence of
mind to even shoot a selfie. Might have been useful to try to
duplicate what was clearly a successful look. In the photo below,
taken the next day, I'm back to my ordinary old hair. No raves from
the masses, but Dan said he liked it. That's the only opinion
besides mine that really counts, of course.
Still, it was nice to be out in public
on what turned out to be one of those Really Good Hair Days.
Shallow? Definitely.
Satisfying? Oh, yes.
This is me trying for a spring
transitional outfit, demonstrating the folly of trying to dress for
the weather you wish you had instead of the weather you have. It was
freaking cold, and I ended up with a coat thrown over the whole
thing. Me, being optimistic!
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Linking up (late and with apologies) with the Multi-Lingual
Seeker at Tres Chic Style Bits
