I stood behind a woman at the post office that I found myself staring at. I wanted to look away but I just couldn't. She was a senior citizen who looked like she was a hair band groupie. Her bleached hair at the same time was mulletted, spiked and poofed. It had the well coiffed look of windblown hair, but there was way too much evidence of effort.
She had on a yellow top that was unremarkable and somewhat covered by the mullet part of her do. Her pants hung off her boney hips. The back of her pants drooled off her butt. Her cuffs gently rested on gold pointy boots with stiletto heels stabbing at the floor.
I was awarded the chance to observe her because she was ahead of me in line, plying the postman with endless queries and struggling to make a decision.
Thankfully another window opened up to deliver the oppressed behind “Grandma Groupie” I got to the window and completed my transaction in the time it took her to reach her car.
It was a Jaguar XJ6. It wasn’t the newest model but it looked like it had been well taken care of. I realized that the car had aged better than she had. She started the car, backed out slowly, and within a minute was moving out of the parking lot.
What is it that possesses us to believe that looking the right way and having the right equipment makes us the envy of the assembly. I know there are people that lust after things that they don’t have yet. One problem is that once you go down that highway seeking to impress other with your stuff or status, there are very few exit ramps. The sad reality is that at some point there is a suble shift where you are no longer impressing others, just ramping up the freak factor.
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