Yes, Virginia: The Carpet Does Match the Drapes

I do think there are truly natural blondes, and there are ones that have been converted from the other side of the aisle. When you go grocery shopping, do you take a list or just wing it? Being in retail, I always take a list, just so I know what IÂ’m doing and donÂ’t look like a total fool when I venture out in public.

Oh, but not the ever-so-regal blonde ones. They just go for it, like, “IÂ’m going to a Mardi Gras ball, and I need some jewelry to go with my dress and shoes.” 


“Well, what color is your dress?”

“All different colors,” says the blonde wonder woman.

Well, guess what, folks? I flunked crystal ball reading, and I didnÂ’t bring my magic fairy wand to work with me. As all service workers, retail people, or anyone who deals with the public can attest to, the general public has either forgot their brain at home, is just plain stupid, or, in my book, a natural blonde and the drapes match the carpet (if you get what I mean).

WhatÂ’s up with you people? Can you work with us? Give us a hint, a picture, or a thread off the damn dress so I can make something I would let you walk out of your house wearing. Is that too much to ask for?

Crap, where’s my Valium®? I’m going over the top again. What’s my damn mantra again? Oh yeah: Hommmm…not going to kill a blonde todayyyyyyy. OK, much better. Now where was I?

Why is the general public so mean? If you think something is not to your liking, donÂ’t tell me. Keep it to yourself. I really donÂ’t care. If you think you can get something less expensive, donÂ’t tell me; keep it to yourself. I really donÂ’t care. But if you say it one more time, I will tell you off in front of everyone in the store, and it will not be pretty. DidnÂ’t your mother, someone in your family, or someone who likes you even, give you any pointers on manners or common sense, because IÂ’m fixing to give you some pointers if you keep pushing me or open your mouth again and out comes some stupid remark about anything.

Let me finish by saying this: If you see me on the corner, talking to myself and pulling out what little hair I have left in my head, you will know that some blonde has just pushed the last button and pushed me over the edge, so just wave or stop and put a quarter in my cup, unless youÂ’re blonde; then I might just chase you down the street in your car and pee on your tires. God, I need some therapy.

Flea collar a little too tight? Need to hiss about something? Scratch out a message about it to catty@redshtickmagazine.com.