the stylist who helped me cut the lawn….

September 21, 2007

i woke up early last saturday, jorge was recovering from working late and a short trip to buddy’s after. i was a little bit pissed actually….see the best part of moving to the city is that you DON’T have to do yard work. you get to plant flowers in boxes and put pretty pots on your steps.
no fuss no muss…but when you move a mile away to the ONLY part of the city that is a little suburbish ,you have a lawn.
it makes no sense but i can’t explain it because i don’t want weirdos from the internet at my front door so you’ll just have to trust me.

we happen to be awful at yardwork , there are just so many other more fun things to do on the weekend. like go out for breakfast at perly’s, lounge in bed and read with all the windows open, play mama slam, go exploring at the river, ride bikes, you get the idea.

the problem is it matters in my swanky neighborhood where we continue to look at each other wondering how we got here in the first place. our little house dwelling among the giants around it. so i am the lawn service, the landscaper, the guy with the big blower on his back.
where do you get one of those things anyway?

i am the only hope in my family to get anything like this sort of thing done, the others could care less, they are blowing me kisses while they ride away on their bikes. i’m such a sucker. so in hopes of not being the loser on the street who brings everyone’s property value down, i schlep out my sad little push lawn mower every other saturday.

on this particular day i had some trouble getting the mower started, i primed, i pulled, i pulled, i jerked, i pulled, no luck. along comes a lovely gay couple who had given me a very chilly hello the week before. i wasn’t offended, i only saw a challenge approaching, i must win these older gay men in their 50’s/60’s over. the dog too….

me: “oh! i’m so sorry, am i in your way?” (as i quickly move my lawn mower off the side walk)
man#1: (with a heavy german accent) “it’s fine, it’s fine, don’t worry.”
man #2: a slight glare my way (i smile back)
they continue on their way, i keep trying to get my mower started.
man #1: “do you need help?”
man#2: slight groan of annoyance
me: “oh, it’s fine, i think i can get it but thank you so much!”
man#1: “no, i’m going to help you, you are a girl.”

i chuckle…

man#2: “argghhhh, no, we have no time for this! come!”
man#1: “no, we should help her, she’s a girl. i will help her.”

i was dying inside, they were so funny, the pair. how they openly discussed if they should help me or not and the reason being i’m a girl. his big and strong hands got the mower started in 2 seconds flat and they were on their way.

then i found out this little tid bit today from a neighbor who was longing for a new haircut-
apparently my knight in shining armor’s reluctant friend is garren. THE garren of garren’s in nyc. i guess they come to relax in richmond on the weekends.
there is no time for helping girls trying to mow their OWN lawns, we must cut jennnifer’s, madonna’s and gweneth’s hair. all for $700 a pop. i liked his no nonsense self…i’m still gonna win his heart, even if he is a grumpy old gay hair stylist! i think i got his kind partner already….

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