I'm kind of sarcastic

When I look back on my blogs I think to myself, "geez. take a load off kate. lighten up. . ."((((SCREECHING HALT))))

Speaking of lighten up. . .

As a hairstylist I have the wonderful ability to color my hair WHENEVER I WANT FOR NEXT TO NOTHING. It's great.

So I went brunette. I haven't been brunette in at least 4 years so it was quite a change.

Anyway, this blog revolves around Maggie (her name has been changed for privacy). Maggie is a robust woman that works EVERYTIME I go to the salon supply store. This is the store I go to in order to purchase color, products, or tools for my studio. Maggie is ALWAYS there. She MAY BE the only employee. She's a loud mumbler.

Maggie is the type of person that repeats what you say right after you say it. How in the world are you supposed to respond to that?

Here's an example. I normally try to stock up on hairspray when I go to this store. At this time, the store had run out of my hairspray I use completely. This was an odd occurance.

Me: Uhh, do you have any Kenra in the back? I see the shelf is empty. . .

Maggie: AwWWw guuurl. I know, I know, I know. We just got a shpmnt of, uhhh, kenDra in da back!

Me: okay. . .can I have some?

Maggie: YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH!!!! YEah girl.. hole on.

Me: okay

--Maggie walks to the back slower than molasses in january and returns with a few bottles for me.--

Maggie: Here you go guuuuurl.

Me: Thank you so much. I was really surprised to see the shelf that empty.

Maggie: (laughs REALLY loud) SHE SAID SHE NEVER SEE IT GET THAT EMPTY!!!!!!

Me: (ummm what in the world do I say? Do I say, "I know I just said it". . .?????) ::smile::

Maggie: she say she never seen it get dat low. . ..GUURL...

uhhhh still lost. what in the world? what does that MEAN. WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!?!

Me: Thanks again for the hairspray (I'm thinking," LET ME LEAVE!")

I scamper out the door still trying to process that conversation. After coming to no conclusions I decide that next time she repeats me I'll just stare at her.

Back to the "lighten up " part.

I went back to the said store after going brunette and Maggie looks at me and says the following. . ."AWWW GUUUUURL!!!! You lightened your hair down!!!!"

Ummm what?

cowboys and indians. . .wait, I meant italians.

I was beginning to think that my travels were not going to be as exciting as they used to be. I was finding NOTHING interesting was going on with the people I ran into. . .or situations that I get in. . . .until now.

I’m returning from a trip home and this trip, unlike any other trip, included a cowboy attached to my hip.

I walked up to the security belt and began unloading my laptop, my quart size bag full of hand sanitizer, and my shoes. The cowboy behind me was absolutely flabbergasted at the idea of everyone taking their shoes off through security.

::muffled laughter behind me::

“Do we really have to take our shoes off?”

I wondered if he was talking to me, but I thought to myself, “I’m not turning around because I don’t want to get into it with this cowboy”.

“Hey, do we really have to take our shoes off?”

Uhg. Now I knew he was talking to the back of my head.

“No sir, I just WANT to take my shoes off and develop a massive amount of fugal infactions on the bottom of my feet”.

--NOT—

I said, “Yes, we do.”

::laughter::

“Why?”

“Sir, I really don’t know. I just do what I always do when I go through security”.

“Is there a sign?”

“No.”

::laughter::

“Well, that is crazy. Do I have to take the coins out of my pocket too? And my classes?

“Yes, you need to empty your pockets”

::laughter::

“Why?”

“I don’t know”

::laughter::

If grandma in front me would hurry it up I would be able to escape this questioning cowboy. But turns out, grandma thinks she needs to keep her prized possessions 600 feet away from the woman in front of her.

Finally, I push my stuff through, and walk on, thinking SURELY cowboy is going to be strip searched because he left a cigarette lighter in his lasso holder. Turns out, he didn’t. He followed right behind me, still awestruck that he had to take his shoes off.

I grab my things, put one shoe on, and walk to the benches and begin to load up my bag again.

Who sits down next to me? My shadow.

“Thanks for your help. I just don’t think I could have gotten through this without you”

What is this, an emotionally scarring situation??? Have I been numbed to the pain that is taking your shoes off because I travel so much?

“Sure thing.”

I walk away, without saying goodbye.

As I sit at my gate, I keep my eyes focused on the screen. I’m dying to see if cowboy is on my flight at, God forbid, sitting next to me.

What if I sat between cowboy and cry-voice? I’d die.

So, I thought, well that was nice. Atleast I have something to blog about now. And as I sit and write this, a sweating Italian 55 year old comes up to me, and stands about 3 inches from my face.

“Kid, you look way too intense”.

“oh…..well….” (I think, “What the heck do I say to this guy??????”)

“You look way too intense”

heard you the first time creeper.

“What are you doing?”

I’m shocked at how invasive this old man is being!

“I’m trying to figure this out”, as I began to mess with my wifi so he wouldn’t see that I’m blogging about him.

Finally, he walks away. I’m left here, shocked. A few things cross my mind. . .

1. Last time I checked I wasn’t a kid. Please don’t call me ‘kid’. Thanks.

2. Why on earth did he think it was okay to get IN MY FACE and look AT MY COMPUTER screen?

3. Why did you say something in the first place?

So thus begins my travels. I’m hoping that I have NOTHING to blog about after I get in my seat.

Fabulous

So I’ve been thinking that nothing that interesting has been going on in my life lately to blog about. Thank GOODNESS I am traveling on Monday. Traveling always acts as a catalyst for new blogs.

Today, however, I meandered over to starbucks between clients. Typically I leave starbucks in a better mood than when I entered. Today—that was not the case.

[disclaimer: I am well aware that people speak at different volumes. HOWEVER, I think there is a level that is excpected in certain environments]

One of the baristas apparently found her new favorite word: fabulous. She said it about eight times when I was ordering my coffee. Let me clarify, she yelled it eight times.

Everything was fabulous, oh so fabulous.

Barista : VENTI MOCHA FRAPPACHINO!?!

-customer goes to pick up drink-

Barista: FABULOUS!

The poor, now deaf, customer winces and scampers out the door.

Barista : (to me) WHAT CAN I GET STARTED FOR YOU SWEETIE?

Me, whispering slightly, : I’ll have a grande non-fat vanilla latte.

Barista: OH FABULOUS! THAT IS FABULOUS!

I just looked at her confused. Did I win a prize?

I grabbed my wallet and searched for the quickest form of payment so I could race out of there to protect my ears. I chose a gift card.

Barista: OH FABULOUS YOU HAVE A GIFT CARD! WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW YOUR FABULOUS BALANCE AFTER I RING YOU UP?

Me: um, no thanks.

Barista : OKAY! WELL, I’LL HAVE YOUR DRINK READY FOR YOU SHORTLY.

Me: okay.

I step down to the pick-up area. Fearing the volume she’ll choose when she yells my drink out to find me, I stand RIGHT in front of it.

Another barista takes over and I’m relieved. She hands me my drink and I run out. I don’t even sprinkle the extra vanilla powder on top.

I’m sure the yeller is a nice person. I just wish she had a little better volume control. And I don’t think I’m the only one that wishes that. Atleast I don’t work with her!