Tuesday, September 13, 2011

You Dirty Girl


Spray paint is from heaven, simply put.  The defacement of thousands of walls is a small price to pay for the absolutely magical ability to take a decrepit piece-o-crap bookcase banged about since college (grimy white with the bottom four inches stained ew-ish when the basement flooded three years ago), and with two cans of "Satin Espresso" create a brand spank-me new darling cabinet that tucked into the 2nd floor bath next to the claw foot tub (which I also spray-painted) and VOILA!  Bath Divine.

Today was lovely.  80* and sunny, the autumn breeze sending golden leaves dancing through the air as I sprayed away in the backyard.  Unbeknownst to me, this playful draft was also sending clouds of Satin Espresso across my yard, surprising me with a "misty" paint job on the rear porch (whoops) and tomato plants that now look as if someone sneezed chocolate on them.  The dog wised up and bolted for the house.

Five hours later I had proudly arranged my bath, done three loads of laundry, vacuumed, watered plants and chopped veges for dinner.  The boys walked in from school and I shooed them quickly out the door--they had dentist appointments asap.  We dashed to the office where I sank gratefully onto the plush couch to relax with the latest edition of People for 45 minutes while teeth were polished and sealed.

Our dentist is.....rather posh.The eggplant colored walls of the waiting room were accented with a lush moss green that paired wonderfully with the leather furniture, electric fireplace and bookcases housing nifty statues and old volumes of Shakespear.  They don't just clean teeth folks, they look elegant while doing it. 

In the midst of this splendor, I suddenly realized the little girl waiting with her mother next to me was whispering.....and pointing at me.  I smiled, certain she just noticed my red hair or glasses.  Then her mother suppressed a look of confused horror and grabbing her daughter's hand, moved to the farthest seat possible from me.

WTH?

I start down the mental list:  deodorant this morning, check.  No "bra dysfunctions" baring all, check. (what, this never happens to you?)  No dog poo on the shoes, check.  And then I see it.  My arm....my ENTIRE right arm has been "cloud painted" a smashing Satin Espresso leaving the impression, if one didn't know otherwise, that not only was I dirty....I was downright filthy.  I'd had so much to do and yes, I'd washed my hands but I wasn't really paying attention, and I......oh no.

Fighting the blush I knew was raging across my face, I stumbled to the poshy restroom and stared at myself in the tasteful gilt-framed mirror.  The entire right half of my face was spotted brown.  Down my neck....even a lovely drip-o thing right at my jawline, implying that I was not only dirty, but sticky too. Was that a moth glued to my hair?

There is no handsoap on the planet that removes spray paint.  But oh, did I try.  Now I was blotchy and dirty.  Pulsating red, plague-like splotches covered my face, and a lovely welt had risen on my neck where I had attempted to scrape off the drip with my fingernail...dear God, I was a walking extra for Contagion. 

I slunk out to the waiting room and snatched a magazine to hold in front of my face.  A handsome man named "Brent" was greeted cheerfully by the receptionist before he came to find a seat.  The frantic manner in which he backed away from me, nearly landing in someone's lap, said it all.  It was a long 45 minutes.  I was a Dirty Girl and there was no denying it.   

15 comments:

Out on the prairie said...

I love it, it would have made a good pic. Well you didn't have to worry about someone with a crying kid getting too close.

Mandy_Fish said...

I laughed until I was shaking reading this.

Blissed-Out Grandma said...

Oh my, I can just imagine the brilliant shade of red face shining through the lovely layers of paint. Pretty funny.

Chantel said...

Prairie--yes, it did have it's upside!

Mandy--long live humiliation.

Bliss--oh I assure you, I was stunning.

Kelley said...

I am laughing, but feeling a little sorry for you, too. :) Surely that person knew you weren't THAT dirty!

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Mary: said...

OMG! I LOVED this post! You really made me laugh, and big kudos to you for great storytelling because one doesn't know until the moment, just like you, why people are reacting to your looks. It's so typical of the kinds of things that happen in the swirl of much living. I laughed, too, because our boys never tell us those obvious things we should know, hahaha. Then, on other days, they might tell you something like the sound of you eating bothers them. You never know. Anyway, I'm so glad I visited your blog today. Abrazos Expresso Girl!

Chantel said...

Kelly--oh girl, it was bad. But at least there was no 'aroma' to go with the fab look!

Tanya--hi there.

Mary--Seriously, I just about killed the boys! What help are they?!? (and the receptionist didn't even blink) However, it was a dentist trip not soon to be forgotten...by anyone. :)

Sarah Kate said...

This is GOOD! You are hilarious!!! :o) I'm sorry you had to suffer the indignity, but seriously, it makes a really great story! And doesn't that make all of our embarrassing moments worth it? :o)

Linda Myers said...

Worse than spinach in your teeth! Great story, though.

Shrinky said...

Now you see, if you had girls, they would have freaked and refused to walk out the door with you - but boys? Pah, boys are permanently totally blind as to how we look (giggle). Such a great post, sorry for laughing!

le Chef said...

LMAO! All artists suffer for their work.
I keep an acrylic paintbrush in my Jeep for those days I look "festive". Twist the hair up in a messy knot, stab into place with the paint brush, and WAL-LAH! I'm simply a dreamy artist, and not a dirty girl.

Trust me, it works.

Chantel said...

Sarah Kate-as long as you can make 'em laugh, it's all good.

Linda--thanks! (and I get spinach teeth ALL the time!)

Shrinky--yeah, but if I had girls, I'd have to buy PINK! (ahhhhhh!)

Chef--I am SO stealing that idea! (and it may come in handy quite often as I have somehow avoided a salon for over 7 months....dear Lord, it's Cousin It!)

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