Does She...Or Doesn't She?

Larry and I went to an honest-to-goodness cocktail party on Saturday.  Oh, yes, we did.  Many of my friends and acquaintances were there, and I sat down next to Cheryl, the lovely lady who teaches my David (along with other homeschooled teens) the basics of high school biology and chemistry.  Needless to say, I adore her.  She greeted me with "Oh, I love your hair! Did you just get it done?"

"Yes! Thanks, I like it, too!" [Oh, wasn't I smart to schedule that hair appointment in time for the party?]

She continued gazing at me.  "That color looks really good."

[Oh, dear, does she think I had it colored, or is she just complimenting my natural shade?  Let's move past this.  Quickly.]  "Thanks!"

Let me note here that I have never known Cheryl to simply blurt out the first thought that comes into her mind.  Ever.  Her naturally reserved demeanor makes me feel as though I am a chattering magpie.  And yet here she was now, continuing to stare at my hair while saying, "Have you had it colored before?"

[What now?  I could lie and let her save face.  But the truth will out.]  "Actually, it's not colored - it's just my normal shade. The encroaching gray looks like highlights!" I ended with a disarmingly lighthearted laugh meant to communicate amusement and a complete absence of umbrage.  [There! That should do it.]

But no.  Still eyeing my hair, she took a page out of my own foot-in-mouth playbook by asking, "Are you sure?"

Um, yes.  Yes, I'm sure.  I'm way too cheap to pay for color treatments.  But I didn't say that.  I just stuffed my mouth full of canapés and nodded amiably.  Because, you know, it's not every day I get to go to a cocktail party.

[Clairol Ad image: I Am Grateful]