Aloe to You Too

Mission Bay CG
San Diego, CA

With all the snow and the water leak and the dryer isn’t working either, I did what any same woman would do once she reached dry land. I went shopping.

There is a mall nearby in San Diego, and of course any woman reading this will understand the lure. You men, just try to imagine. Think football game and you’ll get the idea.

In this mall is a Bed Bath & Beyond, one of the most wonderful stores in the world, a browser’s delight, an impulse purchaser’s dream. (And I needed that electric duster, Bernie! Truly I did.)

I reined in my raging impulses, however, and prepared to exit the store with only a few items, when I passed by one of those kiosks with the video of an exciting new product. As shown on TV! OMG. I paused and watched as six ugly models with disgusting hair became swans with the application of this fabulous hair thingy with the rolling hot barrel and hairbrush combo designed to straighten and smooth your hair in just one minute.

And it was only $99. Wow. A beauty bargain if I ever saw one. I looked in the TV monitor and saw the reflection of my fuzzy unkempt hair and lusted after this remarkable revolution. I was the target market all right. I could have been the pinspot inside of the bullseye that every arrow wants to pierce. I wanted that thing. I still can’t think of its name, but I sure wanted it.

My fuzzy hair and I left the store without the miracle product. Given that I had never spent more than $30 for any kind of hair dryer, hair comb, brush, straightener or curler, I thought $99 a mite excessive. Like all those TV products, it would come down from the pricing stratosphere in time.

But this kind of lust doesn’t go away, even in a cold shower. The mind is a terrible thing.

I thought. I equivocated. I longed. I lusted. I caved. I reasoned that the one box of stuff that didn’t make it from the old coach to the new one was my box of “product” --and I’m not making a grammatical error here; that is indeed what they are called. (And why it didn’t make it boggles the mind, since we were parked next to each other in the parking lot and all we had to do was transfer stuff out one door and into the other, but that’s obviously another story.)

Here’s my logic: Sixteen bottles of shampoo, conditioner and hair spray, one ordinary dryer, one high speed dryer, one flatiron, two curling irons – that had to add up to $100, right? I’d actually be saving a dollar if I bought this new revolutionary gotta-have-it.

So two days later, I went back and bought it.

It worked like a dream, turning my curly mess into smooth straight locks in ten seconds flat. And no wonder. The barrel of the roller must have been 212 degrees. That baby was smokin’ – or maybe that was my hair. In any event, it delivered. I began to feel better about the $99. Although I didn’t save the dollar, since there’s tax in California.

Then Saturday morning, preparing for a lovely outing to Old Town San Diego, I decided to get straight. I turned on the juice, heated up my straightener, applied it to my errant locks, and promptly burned the left side of my face. Ow. Owowow. I splashed on cold water, finished my hair and pulled it over the burn, now turning bright red and becoming sort of incredibly painful.

The hair-over-the-face trick didn’t work and John soon became aware that I looked like an abused wife and started to ask questions. Not to worry, I said.

The good thing about Old Town is that they believe in cactus, and among the plantings were several that looked to my New York eyes like they might be aloe. I broke off a piece of the nearest cactus, squeezing the juice onto the burn and smiling triumphantly.

Then the left side of my face turned day-glo yellow. I realized I could have been applying yucca or saguaro juice to a third-degree burn and turning my face a clownish tint for the rest of my life. John said nothing except, "You missed the burn." I moved the jelly over an inch and covered the sore part I hadn't wanted to touch. Now the entire cheek was yellow. I got some strange looks in the old style cantina we visited for lunch. Maybe they liked my hair.

Two days later, I still have the burn mark. It still hurts, but my hair is still straight, so there’s comfort in that. The yellow has faded around the burn mark, but the burn itself still glows iridescent. And I still haven’t looked up an aloe plant on Google Images.

Why bother. I have that leaf in the refrigerator and I’m thinking it might make a good eye shadow, and that’s another $6.50 I would have saved. I am so thrifty I just can’t believe myself.