It’s the Pitts 9-28-09
They were at the big department store to buy Ethel her first new longhandle underwear in 20 years and J.B. went along to make sure Ethel didn’t squander any money needlessly. J.B. felt a little funny following Ethel around in the lingerie department, him being the only man and all, so he went looking for a place to sit and wait. When he sat on a stool in the cosmetics salon he was unaware it was the chair for free beauty consultations and makeovers.
“Oh, we have ourselves a real live cowboy,” exclaimed Bobbi, the beauty consultant. Bobbi was wearing two gold earrings, a tongue stud and too much makeup. Especially for a guy. “My, my. This will be a real challenge,” giggled Bobbi as he whirled J.B. around in the stool, covered him up with a frilly apron and snuck a mirror in front of J.B.’s ugly mug. Admittedly, J.B. needed a few beauty tips. He had tried to get a facelift once but the crane wasn’t big enough. To show you just how ugly he was, his driver’s license photo actually looked better than the real thing. Now that’s ugly!
Meanwhile, J.B. had no idea what the heck was going on. Bobbi threw off J.B.’s seed corn cap and was blinded by the glare from the lack of hair that was departed in the middle. When Bobbi started messaging his scalp J.B. jumped in the chair like he’d been hit with a hot shot. “The dried up look is out,” tittered Bobbi. “What have you been washing your hair with?”
“Uh, I use Lava Soap if we got it,” answered J.B. keeping one eye on Bobbi.
Bobbi had no idea what Lava was. J.B. assumed he was getting a free hair cut and asked if there was anything to read. Bobbi stuck a Glamour magazine in his hand and slopped on some mousse hair gel and blow dried what little hair J.B. had left into the shape of spikes. Then he colored the spikes in a bright array of colors.
J.B. had a chew tucked in his bottom lip and needed to spit awful bad. Bobbi was disgusted when he did so right in the manicure bowl. “You are going to have to stop that disgusting habit if you want to be attractive to the opposite sex,” scolded Bobbi. “It makes your bottom lip protrude and the only people who find that attractive is a tribe of aborigines in Borneo.”
“How far is this here Borneo?” asked J.B. “I’d rather move there than give up chewing.”
In rapid fire order Bobbi combed the mustard and oat hay out of J.B.’s mustache, stuck his dirty nails in some Mop and Glo, replaced the smell of corral No. 5 with Channel No. 5, and applied a mud pack to his sun burnt skin. “Let’s have a look at your cellulite? We are going to have to tighten up that fanny and get rid of those panty lines aren’t we? You have a set of calves that only a cow could love!” tee-heed Bobbi.
The FREE beauty makeover ended up only costing $600 on J.B.’s Visa card. Bobbi loaded up a sack full of beauty aids for J.B., which included a beauty mask to make him look better. “Have your wife wear this when you go to bed so she can’t see you. Ha, ha!” said Bobbi, quite pleased with himself.
Bobbi stood back and admired his handiwork. “My advice to you is to mingle with ugly people.”
In the meantime Ethel returned from the lingerie department. She screamed when she saw J.B. with his new perm, painted nails and eye liner. “I’ll be suing you for damages,” she yelled at Bobbi as she grabbed J.B. by the scruff of the neck and drug him away.
As they rode home in the truck J.B. tried to lighten the solemn atmosphere. “All that cream, coloring and whitewash they lathered on me just goes to show you, ma, that beauty really is only skin deep.”
“Good,” replied an irate Ethel, “cause when I get you home I’m gonna skin your hide.”
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