The Goth Girl & Me

The tattooed Goth girl came at me with a pair of scissors.  She grabbed a fist full of my hair, then went for a razor and hacked at it. I felt tugging and could hear the sound of hair being ripped away from my head.  It was sickening, like a bird of prey attacking me. 

I kept unusually quiet - I didn't want to antagonize the girl holding the weapon.
"How many haircuts do you do in a day?" I finally ventured.

"Up to thirty-five." she responded.  "You have thick hair." 

("Had" I thought.)

"I put a lot of layers in it so it will lay nice."

When she was finished, she whipped off the black cape and was clearly proud of herself.  After I put my glasses on she looked at me again.  Then she put the cape back on and whacked at my hair some more.  Finally satisfied, she let me escape.  I thanked her (I did mention that she was holding a razor, right?) and as I got out of the chair, glanced at myself in her mirror.

Where I once had hair, I now have feathers.  Lots of them.
 

We Danced

Saturday night there was a reunion dance at the clubhouse.  It featured music from the '70s, '80s and '90s and you were supposed to dress in what you wore back then.  The Goth girls of the '90s were the scariest in their short, black leather getups with black bustiers, fishnet stockings and black lipstick.  Their hair stuck up like the a rooster's combs.  Some wore white makeup, which added to the creepy factor.

(Flashback to my days as Mom the Chauffeur:  One Halloween after school I picked Katie and a neighbor boy up from high school.  Danny asked if I'd give his friend a ride home, too.  The guy had on classic Goth -- total black all the way down to his black fingernail polish and spiked leather choker.  It was truly frightening and I raved about his outfit the entire time until I dropped him off.  Then Danny said, "Mrs. Z., he wasn't wearing a costume.")

Back to the present:

Groovy!

Jerry wore what Jerry has worn every day for the entire time I have known him, blue jeans and a tee shirt.  It was probably the most authentic costume at the event. On the other hand, I wore a flower in my hair, my wire rims, beige lipstick and a maternity outfit. 

In our group,Rita was the clear winner - she had on a jean jacket, beads, a head band and John Lennon round shades, tinted bright blue. Classic biker Mama.

We danced.  I twisted, ponied, monkeyed, swam, bumped and even did the jerk.  Jerry and I busted out some of our swing moves and also fox trotted.  Finally those three years of dance classes obviously paid off!  One..two...three... One...two...three... 

The last time we did so much dancing was in the '80s.  We'd round up our neighbors and head over to the Dillsboro Civic Center on Saturday nights and have ourselves some big fun.  The rooms were smokier back then, but the band didn't seem as loud. 

When the party was over we came home, set our clocks ahead and went right to sleep.  It was easy to wake up in the morning, but it wasn't easy to get up.  Funny, I don't remember being this sore forty years ago.