I finally decide to go to lunch with some of my friends from my old neighborhood. Some of these lovely ladies I like, but a few of them are only concerned with how I “LOOK” 1 year after my divorce.
Recovering slowly from the emotional assault on my self- esteem, I bravely accept the invitation.
I care greatly about making a completely fabulous, superficial, appearance……I know it seems a bit shallow, but you would SOOOO be the same way… I get a great nights sleep the night before, a manicure, a fabulous new pair of black pants (that make my ass look AMAZING) and new glossy magenta lipstick that matches my newly painted finger follicles. I’m feeling good. I’m feeling real good. I’m feeling healthier and stronger since my transition and I am ready to telegraph that message to my gossipy neighbors.
I have arrived at the snooty Italian Restuarant and I’m seated. I say my “hellos.” I place my order from the leather bound menu and patiently wait for my rabbit food to arrive.
What happens next is most disturbing…
My salad has just been presented to me. As I began to partake in this culinary experience, heavy droplets of water begin to form over my magenta stained upper lip, gathering to create the tiniest, salty waterfall that overspills onto my chin and silently splashes into my lap. My face turns the color of the pomegranate seeds that I just threw into my fancy salad and the very thought of being encased in my own skin is almost too must to endure. My hair begins to frizz slightly from the steam that is emanating from my own body.
“Don’t you wish your girlfriends were HOT like me” I silently scream in my head. What the hell am I talking about? I think my middle age readers know what I’m referring too… thats right, HOT flashes! My dream would be that we all have hot flashes at the same time so no one feels left out. But guess what…that is not happening.”Why now?” I think to myself. I was looking so good.
Now that my face has melted into my neck, what’s the game plan? How do I escape this vanity induced humiliation? This is not a good look, trust me. I’m beginning to panic. May I add that a hot flash is much like quick sand. The more you panic the worse it’s gets, the worse it gets, the more your pores release massive amounts of warm steamy fluids.
Being about 10 years older than my dining chums, I know that they are mortified at the thought that this could be them in the near future. Having no control over my excessive sweating, I decide to embrace it. I take a deep hard look at the ladies and announce my menopausal medical condition.
I am hoping that I’m a shining or should I say a glistening example of what to do when one experiences a personal water main break. With that, I walk proudly to the ladies room knowing that my ass really does look amazing in my new black pants! In the end, I had a great lunch and truly enjoyed 1/2 of the company. All in all I chalk this up to a pretty good day.