And in another salon across town…

Posted on January 24, 2006


It’s nice to see that I’m not the only socially inept, wildly offensive female on the planet. When my roommate S (the Indian one, remember) went to get her hair done yesterday, her colourist casually informed her that Sri Lankans stink. Stunned, she said “What?” Nonchalantly the woman elaborated, “You know. Because of the curry.”
S related this to me as, in fact, I was sucking up some curry myself. I couldn’t leave well enough alone, of course.
“Well, you can’t deny that curry does make you smell.”
“You know what, I can’t smell it. And even if I do smell something, it just smells like curry. It’s not a stink.”
“It’s not a smell you want coming from a human though.”
“Whatever. White people smell like macaroni and cheese anyway. Maybe I should have told her that.”
“Yeah…they kind of do.”
She took it in extremely good part, no? I don’t think she is even slightly taken aback anymore.
The reason for our outing was actually to go to the gym. A Certain Person dragged my reluctant ass to his gym yesterday, and forced me to do some decidedly ungirly things. I tried to argue that bench presses would make my boobs shrink, but even this very pertinent line of argument was ineffective. Anyway, as a result my body has been increasingly sore today. I have had to consider even the most necessary ablutions very carefully, and have been walking around like the tin man. Despite this I wanted to build on that victory, and S has been similarly pressured by her own fitness freak boyfriend, so we went. I creaked, and she walked, over to the sign up desk. They refused to let me sign up because I didn’t have any photo id on me. Brimming with joy at this excuse for delay, I unfortunately called the poor receptionist dude a “photo Nazi”. S gave an internal moan. But to our surprise, his previous chilliness dissipated and he was much nicer (probably in response to my back-pedalling furious smiling and cuteness).
Our consciences satisfied by this stoke of fate, we went on our usual rounds of perusing each store in the mall we remarkably have on campus. I bought a hat with earflaps. It’s something I’ve always resisted but I’ve finally given in. I tried on one with a bobble but it made me look like a German WWI soldier (a comment that really took the toothless Russian vendor aback). S viewed some jeans identical to hers that were a good $250 cheaper. The guy kept saying it was because he bought them in bulk, but upon our insistence that they had fallen off the back of a truck he acquiesced. He offered to let us try some on in the washroom in exchange for our student ID as security, but again I was foiled by the absence of that curiously unlaminated and photo-free red and white strip. It shall happen though. No one loves stolen goods more than she, and no one loves a bargain more than I. Tomorrow we venture thence armed with all manner of identification.