Side effects.

A somewhat disturbing side effect of my new hair is that I’m starting to get some odd new attention.

Take yesterday when I was walking through the wall, trying to decide on dinner.  Some smarmy guy ran into me - and when I say smarmy, I mean smarmy.  I know charm, and that’s incredibly rare - and true smarm is also rare.  Car salesman type stuff.  Anyway, this early twenties, dressed to do a deal shoudler smacker hit me, and then stopped to say the obligatiry apology, and then stopped - looked at me again, and made his best “how YOU doin’” face, and tried a line.

How long has it been since I saw that look?  The last time I wore my red vinyl pants, and thatmy friends, was a loooong time ago.  So I’m a little rusty on my snappy comebacks.  All I could do was sputter out a “huh?” while I was vainly trying to get my contact lens out of my eyelid and trying to get my left hand free so I could flash that ownership ring.  He figured out I wasn’t as cute as the new haircut said and walked away, leaving me confused, thinking “What on earth?  I have a KID and a husband!!”

Also smiling my own smarmy style.

But then today, the hair got me in creepy trouble again.  In the processof waiting the hour and a half for the cops to show up, the moron 22-year old tattooed “music producer” has a court date next week MORON that ran into my van while I was trying to pull into my own bleeding driveway asked me if it was my mom’s van.

Not as flattering as you’d think.  This was after I ran around my street screaming at him like a banshee.

I’m not up to this sexy thing.  I’m putting a hat on tomorrow.