The Price of Beauty
I had to go to Boynton to meet a plumber for a rental unit. Barbara decided to come along and hang out with my sister, Regina.
I dropped Barbara off and I went to meet the plumber. Barbara and Regina decided to go shoe shopping.
Shoe shopping was necessary because Barbara needed a new pair of gold or brown shoes to match a dress she was planning on wearing to my cousin Rocky’s wedding.
Two nights before she had tried on the dress and shoes she had to match it. The dress fit fine, but the shoes hurt and she couldn’t walk in them.
Since they were comparatively new shoes, having been bought when she bought the dress, I was a little taken back by the fact that they didn’t fit.
“How come they hurt you?”, I asked.
“They always hurt a little, but now they hurt a lot. My foot must have grown”, Barbara replied.
“Why did you buy them if they hurt? They must have hurt originally, your feet could not have grown so fast” I queried.
“Well, yes, but they matched the dress” she replied as if that were a valid answer. “I will have to get a new pair.”
“Don’t buy shoes that hurt” I reasonably said.
I got “The Look”, so I let the matter drop.
As I left Barbara and Regina, I reminded Barbara “don’t get shoes that hurt”. They both looked at me as if I was an idiot.
I met the plumber and he successfully made the necessary repair. I returned to Regina’s house to await their arrival after they finished their shopping expedition.
They showed up a couple of hours later, carrying a bag with a shoe box inside.
“Let me see the shoes” I asked.
Barbara showed me the shoes. A gold sandal with a 3 inch heel.
“Do they hurt, are they comfortable?” I asked.
“Of course they are comfortable, but I am still going to bring a pair of flats with me to the wedding, because they will probably hurt as the evening wears on” Barbara said.
“What?” I said, “let me get this straight. You bought shoes you know will hurt you and you will bring a pair of flats to wear for most of the evening. Is that right? Why didn’t you just buy a pair of gold or brown flats?”
“ I need to make a good impression at the beginning, and flats won’t do that. Besides these sandals are perfect for the dress”, she said as if I was a complete moron devoid of fashion sense. My sister nodded in agreement.
I shook my head in frustrated disbelief but refrained from further comments since I knew any appeal to common sense was fruitless.
We left to make the journey home (a distance of approximately 40 miles, a bit of information that will be handy shortly).
We were home for about an hour when my sister called. Barbara answered.
“Hello. Oh, did I leave that? No, no, you don’t have to do that. We’ll probably come and get it tomorrow. I’ll let you know” Barbara said into the phone.
They chatted for a couple of minutes and then hung up. Barbara came into the room where I was.
“You’re not going to believe this. I left my makeup case in Regina’s bathroom”, Barbara informed me.
“Ok”, I said, “ she can bring it down Sunday (today was Monday) when she comes for the BBQ”.
“I can’t wait that long for it. Either we have to get it or I will have to buy replacement makeup”.
“Why can’t you go “Au Natural” I asked?
“Don’t be ridiculous”, she replied. “I can’t go around without makeup. Your choice, go up and get it, or buy me more. Which is it?”
I thought of having to go with her to buy more makeup.
“Hmmm, maybe we should go up and get it tomorrow. We’ll go early and have to postpone my previous appointment on Tuesday.” I grumbled.
“Don’t worry, I’ll owe you. Or you could think of yourself as my Knight Errant, and or a Knight of the Round Table on a quest for his lady fair” Barbara said.
“Yeah, and your makeup case is the Holy Grail?”.
The next morning, Barbara informed me she was staying home and I was going on this journey alone.
I had expected something like this occurring and was not surprised. I grumbled at her about the unfairness of it all, and the length and time consumption of the quest/journey (see how important the bit of previous mileage information is to the story). I might have mentioned how she would surely owe me for this.
Barbara said, “You’re never going to let me forget this, are you?“
A rhetorical question if ever there was one.