It seems like whenever I leave the house, I get pulled into some strangers weird, awkward conversation. Just the other day, I was sitting in the doctor's waiting room, bereft of any decent magazine or book. I suppose this was my first mistake. Always have a book. Alas, I'd brought my small purse, and I was too lazy to carry a book in my other hand.
Anyway, this particular waiting room is quite small. Soon after I arrived, a few more people walked in, and every seat was quickly full. I could either stare at a blank spot on the ceiling above me, or stare at the unfortunately penned tattoo on the ankle of the twenty-something across from me. Reminded of gross diseases like hepatitis, I chose to stare at the wall. Apparently this is the first signal that you'd like to have a conversation with a random stranger.
The woman sitting next to me waited with her teenage daughter. "What's with your hair today?" She harped. "It's not supposed to look like that! You look like a bum!"
Her daughter simply smiled sheepishly, undoubtedly embarrassed that her mom chose this time to comment on her self-expression. To my horror, the woman turned to me.
"Doesn't she look ridiculous?" She asked me loudly.
"Uh," I replied, buying time to formulate my response. I looked to her daughter, self-conscious in her budding womanhood. The entire room waited for my response. "What are we looking at here? The color, or. . .?"
"No! The way it's parted. On the side like that!"
I looked at the mother's face, about to ask her why she was asking my advice since she obviously had formed her own opinion, when I saw she was wearing navy blue eye shadow, at least three coats of mascara and bright pink lipstick ala Molly Shannon's dress in Sixteen Candles.
"I think it looks good actually," I said, turning to her daughter and smiling. Conversation over.
That's what I would have said, too. Stupid mom.
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