I went to Raleigh today to get my roots done. And whoever suggested in the comments today (where I previously announced the riveting news that I was in Raleigh with my roots. Being Alex Haley. Rootin' around. Drinking root beer. Doing my Rudy from The Cosby Show impression. Etc.) that Raleigh is where Aunt Bea got HER hair done, y'all can kiss my pinafore. And my bouffant-y bun. And my wavery voice. "Ohhhh, Andy! Opie ate the pies!"
Good gravy. Was Aunt Bea supposed to be my age? Who suddenly got depressed? Whose pies just got eaten? So to speak.
So my point is, there I was, headed to the Raleigh, there, not a care in the world, when I saw a blue car on the freeway that looked like, yes, Daniel Boone's. In case you are too cool to click on my link, if you have link phobia (in which case I suggest you don't become a member of The Mod Squad) (bah!) (June. Referring to current shows since 2007), Daniel Boone was a person I used to date. Daniel Boone was a person who made me a shell of my usually pretty full-of-whatever-is-inside-a-shell self. I guess Daniel Boone sucked the oyster out of me. Which sounds incredibly dirty. As opposed to "whose pies just got eaten."
What I mean is, he was a guy I dated for awhile, and was crazy about, and every time I go to Raleigh I worry Ima run into him, except that on the INSIDE, where I am back to being fully oystered, I say, "Oh, June. You won't run into DANIEL BOONE. Don't be silly."
And yet today? Hello. There he was. Driving down the freeway. And you know I beeped and waved? I mean, come on. We can't beep and wave at each other?
Apparently we cannot. Because for THREE MILES he was next to me and would not look my way. I feel like he intentionally didn't look at me, that maybe he'd seen me earlier on the road (a yellow Bug with a Bee Gees sticker is sort of, you know, obviously a June car) and had decided to ignore my very existence.
Which is silly. But whatever.
I did the mature thing and got right on the phone to ...friend. "You'll never BELIEVE who's in the next lane," I hissed.
"Well, the good news is, this will never happen again. It's like buying the house that's already been struck by lightning."
...? Did he just make that up? Because it's a good one but I've never heard that before.
Anyway a few minutes later I called him back. And you know what I am? Fun to date. "Was it rude that I called you, of all people, with that announcement?"
"No!" said ...friend, who seems to be well-adjusted. Then he told me a story about seeing an old girlfriend on the freeway--THAT SAME FREEWAY! What is it, the Highway of Failed Romances?--and that he had on sunglasses but strained his eyeballs looking right without turning his head to see if it was her. And it was. He, however, did not beep and wave. Apparently that's my cool signature move.
So that's my news for today. I was gonna tell you a whole other story about this guy who's been at the bar 539 days in a row, but I will save that for tomorrow. The D Boone sighting trumps the drunk guy.
At least my hair looks good.