Tonight is my 10 year high school reunion; a time to reflect on personal accomplishments. Instead, I locked myself out of the house in my underwear whilst getting my formal shirt off the line. I sat for a while in disbelief, then started thinking about the reunion. What would I tell people I do now? Dress up as a music theatre veteran and make fun of celebrities? How is that what I do now? What have other people been doing? Is it too late to get a refund on the ticket? I knew Scott would be home at some point this morning but I was supposed to be at work in an hour and I was losing track of time. I decided I needed to go find a pay phone and reverse call charge work to tell them Id be late. But what to wear? The tuxedo shirt and underwear did make for a wonderful early Liza Minnelli look but wasnt quite proper for early morning Brunswick. Then I remembered that I have an ENORMOUS supply of clothing in the shed! Unfortunately, it is all my Rhonda costumes. I riffled through boxes to find the least drag looking outfit- the black crushed velvet jump suit- put it on with the tuxedo shirt over the top and headed for Sydney Road. I went without the six inch stilettos as I didnt want to make a scene. (I was sans wig and jewellery for the same reason). I got to the pay phones but there was no one in the office to accept the call. Then I remembered there was a police station down the road! Im fairly sure the officer on the counter was coming to the end of his night shift because when I walked in he looked me up and down and rolled his eyes like oh here we go again. When I explained the situation he was very helpful and left me with a phone and told me to make as many calls as I like. I left a message for work and tried to think of anyone else that could help. Unfortunately the only other phone number I know is my mothers mobile, so I called her, she just laughed uncontrollably and told me she was at the airport and there was nothing she could do. Ill remember that when Im picking her nursing home. Annnnyway, I wandered home, waited a while eventually my knight in shining armour (well, a shiny über) arrived, slightly puzzled as to why I was channeling Judy Garland on our doorstep at 9am. Moral of the story? Im very proud that I do Rhonda, and Ill be telling everyone about her tonight, because if it wasnt for her I would have had to walk around Brunswick in an ill-fitting pair of promotional Manhunt undies.
Posted on: Thu, 13 Nov 2014 22:50:09 +0000
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