Thunderstorms and Hot Rollers

It’s that time of year when Mother Nature gets pissed and F’s with my golf game. Thunderstorm season. Of course the day before yesterday was Wednesday – my golf night – so she holds out until 3 PM to lay the hammer down. Rest of the flipping day was gorgeous, but right as I start thinking we may be able to play, it was 4th of July in the sky. Pitch black dark and lightening everywhere. We had a few tornadoes touch down near our house – enough to knock our power out for 8 hours yet again. 8 hours seems to be the magic number for P’ville.

As I’m driving to work yesterday contemplating this ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL day-after-the-storm morning, I look to my left. In the car next to me, I notice a commuter (female of course) in hair curlers. It was so out of character, I had to laugh. I’ve seen some crazy stuff on the toll road, but this I haven’t seen since Walmart on a Saturday afternoon back in Mississippi. (At least this commuter spared us the bath robe and fuzzy slippers.)

As I think about this a bit more, I start to question the intent. Did she just forget they were there? Is she really going to work wearing those things? Where and how will she dispose of them when she gets to where she is going? Is the final destination appearance important enough to get all "beauty shopped up" on the toll road? Am I the only one who thinks this is odd? And, of course, does anyone but me really care?

Bottom line, I guess she should be glad she wasn’t wearing those things at 3PM Wednesday. With all of those lightening rods in her hair, she’d have been prime candidate for the hair perm of her life.