See, THIS is why I can't be a "girl"

Had a girl's night out with the ladies from my office tonight. We went for a drink and nibblies, and then off to the spa. Well, actually off to an aesthetics school; these ladies are nearing graduation and offer heavily discounted prices on the procedures so they can get more practice. I will tell you right off the bat that I really enjoyed it; I had some kind of super detoxy blah blah blah facial, it was relaxing, it felt great, my skin feels like a baby's butt, and it was dirt cheap.

On the table next to me, on the other side of the discreet curtain, was a lady I don't have much in common with. You know what, this is my blog, so I'll just spell it out: I think the woman is a complete airhead. But she was trying to chat with me so I figured I could just make some mindless chatter and then she would leave me alone with my lovely facial.

Unexpectedly, she asked me if I was still happy with my homemade laundry soap (I am). This turned in to a whole enviro tangent that frankly floored me. She was asking me what I believe, what I want....and, even knowing that every single person I work with could hear me, I found myself telling this airhead my ambitions of chickens and hogs, of fertile gardens, of sustainability, of living simply.

Then she hauls off and says, "Did I tell you I started my own business? I am a rep for Majorly Expensive Cosmetics. What I love about them is that their products are made from 'botanicals' and the seven step cleansing system is only $400 and it lasts a long time."

(Here's the proof that I can't do this whole "girl" thing.)

I basically replied that while I wish her well, and once received a sample of the seven step process as a gift and agree that it was lovely, spending $400 on a seven step cleansing process doesn't fit in with my desire to live simply, nor does the time involved in a seven step process, that even if it did I could never justify the expense, and what is so wrong with looking my age ANYWAY, and if it hadn't been for this organized outing I would probably never have had another facial for as long as I live, and I figure plain old soap is good enough for me.

And that's when I realized my esthetician, who hopes to spend her live selling such clap trap, was listening. As was every esthetician in the room. As were all my co-workers.

If my back wasn't still so bad, I probably could have gotten my actual foot in my mouth. That's all that prevented it.

Nobody talked to me much after that.

At the end of my facial, my poor affronted esthetician tried to fix my hair with her fingers before I got up. I told her she didn't need to do that, I was good....then I stood up and saw my dishevelled self in the mirror. I snorted, "Omigod, I totally have sex hair!"

My co-workers near me giggled, and I heard one of them further away ask, "What did Irma say?"

"I SAID THE FACIAL TOTALLY GAVE ME SEX HAIR."

I heard shocked gasps from across the room, and my cosmetic selling coworker hissed, "Irma, there are other clients in the room besides us!!!"

Ugh.

Now everybody hates me. Even people I don't know.