By: Ann Brown
This is a true story, and as soon as I find my digital camera I will prove it.
Some of you already know that I spent a few hours at a local shopping center with a big sticker on my butt, which I had taken off my new Oreck vacuum cleaner, that read: Pick Me Up – I’m Light! I knew the sticker was there; I had put it on my butt, in fact, when I opened the box because I thought it was so hilarious. What I didn’t do, unfortunately, was remember that it was still there when I left the house.
“Pick Me Up – I’m Light!” my butt called to shoppers. And, surprisingly, no one did. No one even tried. Now, I don’t know about you but if I saw someone with that kind of invitation/challenge on their person, I would totally give it a whirl. Maybe I could win a prize or something, who knows? But no one approached me. I mean, it’s not like my butt said, “Smell Me – I’m Funky!” or anything. No one even signaled to me that I might want to look backwards in a mirror (with the International Sign Language for, “hey, Clueless, check out your butt”). I don’t get it.
But then, there’s a lot of shit I don’t get. I once came home from an entire day in the recording studio and looked in the mirror to see a big ass streak of ketchup on my face. And no one had said a word about it. What the hell did they think, I put it there on purpose? So I can be prepared should there be a random gust of french fries?
Can’t we make a pact that if we see something potentially mortifying – toilet paper out of the top of our tights, pesto on our front tooth, booger on the back of our head, panicked fruit fly stuck to our super-glossed lips, maxi-pad on the outside of our jeans, baby in the shopping cart & baguette in the Snugly, anything that will cause us apoplexy when we get home and see it – we will tell each other? Can we just do that? Anyone who doesn’t want to know, step forward. Anyone? Oh, you, okay. You, with the green plastic grass from your sushi container in your cleavage and sticky rice on your shirt. Okay. Never mind.
But I am signing up. Tell me what I need to know.
And while you are at it, pick me up. I’m light!
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Originally published on The Seattle Lesbian
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