I am sitting under the hairdryer at my neighborhood salon, waiting for the conditioning treatment to work its miracle. Magazine in hand, I’m feeling about as relaxed as I can when I’m out in public, knowing I am in constant danger of colliding with stupidity.
Once again, I am not disappointed.
“Who has my ‘Vanity Fair’?” yells an old crone badly in need of some salon magic. No one answers.
She takes it up a notch. “I need my 'Vanity Fair!' I need my ‘Vanity Fair!’” Apparently, 'Vanity Fair' is the new heroin.
What in the world makes her think the magazine is hers? Suddenly, I am feeling better than relaxed. I’m feeling feisty.
“Oh,” I asked naively as I showed her the cover, “is this what you're looking for?”
“Oh my God! Yes. Can I have it?”
“Nooo. I’m reading it. Just started, too. It’s a really, really great issue.” Actually, I consider the magazine pretentious and way over-written. But I was dying to see some previously unpublished photos of Heath Ledger.
Then Queen Bee really fucked up. “Find me,” she commanded, “when you’re finished with it.”
FIND ME WHEN YOU’RE FINISHED WITH IT???? Are you fucking kidding me? Do people not say “please” in The Land of the Entitled?
I was dumbstruck. Puzzled that I hadn’t answered--or, more likely, snapped to attention--this creature stuck out her hand and introduced herself, to which I replied, using my best manners,“Uh huh.”
“I always read that magazine whenever I come here. I’m a Republican and I love to argue with the magazine.”
I jumped right on that one. “Um, I don’t mean to pick nits, but you can’t really argue with a magazine. It’s an inanimate object. You could roll up the magazine, though, and use it as a flimsy weapon when you argue with a living thing, provided the living thing speaks.
"And I gotta tell you: If I ever had any intention of 'finding you'--which, by the way, I did not--it would have evaporated the instant I found out you were a Republican. Step and fetch your own magazine, okay?"
“Oh, but now we’re having a dialogue!” she countered. "Isn't that great?"
“Actually, honey, you’re having a monologue. I’m reading ‘Vanity Fair.’ Really, really great issue.”
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