MARRIED WITHOUT BRIDESMAID

How should I feel now? Delighted for my friend's
good fortune, envious and tearful, excited even?
How about completely pissed off. What a selfish
bitch (Alex not me!) I have waited the better part of
my life in hope that I would be a bridesmaid one day
and wear a hideous peach coloured dress the size of
a house. I feel robbed. I refrained from texting her
back straight away, I would have to curb myself using
that useful tool-alcohol. But I had to choose some
clothes first, after all I had a new job to consider.
I wondered if Ruth knew, normally I would have been
on the phone to her, running Alex down and demanding
that the Bride retake her vows the minute she sets foot
on British Soil again.
Hmm, had that achy lonely feeling again (an Alan hold-
me moment). Then Angela Grade entered my changing cubicle without even calling out! Luckily I had my underwear
still on!
"Have you decided on anything yet?" She said and
fingered a navy blue Vivenne Westwood.
"No-I like it all, perhaps there is too much
choice, you decide for me." What the hell was I on?
Letting another woman ( a boss woman )choose my
clothes for me!
"Bless you! I'd be delighted." She was quite
enthusiastic, especially the way she touched my
zips and buttons (no pun intended-yeah right!).
I settled on a black Chanel trouser suit , really
special and not at all me. Also a Donna Karen jacket
and some cheaper highstreet pieces to ring the changes.
I did not like to think how much it all cost.
"Right that's you kitted out, next we need to
get you a haircut and then maybe go on to lunch?"
I really did not want anyone touching my hair
except Ruth, mind you I would not trust Ruth anywhere
near me now especially not with a sharp instrument.
I think I will aim towards growing a bob shape and start
to grow it all long again. But Angela had other ideas.
"Cut it very short with a spiky fringe." She ordered
our resident trimmer, he looked at me and rolled his
eyes.
"Hey Angela! I really want to grow my hair long
again, I don't really like short hair." I said
nervously.
"You had long hair? Impossible to imagine my dear!
Short suits you so much better and if you have a really
sharp cut it will make your eyes show all the more."
With one nod at the hairdresser he began to cut
and cut again, then he brought out the clippers!
"Wait a minute!" But too late he had cropped the hair
severely into the back of my neck.
Looking in the mirror I appeared to have morphed
into a teenage boy.
"Don't you think I look a bit butch?" Forget the
bridesmaid with this hair!
"No! Why do you say that? You look lovely, so
fresh and clean." She leaned over and smelled the
nape of my neck.
"Mmm lovely." She murmured, what hair was left
began to rise. I caught the eye of the hairdresser
again, his mouth was gaping!
After a long lunch I returned back to Sisterthing's
place. I felt awful with this hair, I would have
to invest in a wig as everytime I caught sight of myself
I felt like howling.
"Becka! Someone's stolen your hair!" Raine shrieked.
"Don't ask." I sunk into one of her squelchy
leather arm chairs.
"I don't like it to be honest Becks, you look
a bit rough." She kindly admitted.
"Say it-I look like the butchest Dyke this side
of Prisoner Cell Block H.
"Yes you do." Which was the truth and with this
little moustache that keeps making an appearance,
I was well on the way to dildo city.
I felt thoughrily miserable, when Ruth had fixed
my mad hack job I had felt feminine and sexy. I
just felt terrible now, not me at all. Bloody Angela
Grade!
Well she could pay for hair extensions! I wished I was
coming into work so that I could say goodbye to Zoey.
I bet Justine will tell her a right load of shit.
Becka