I was leaving the farmer's market today when two girls approached me.
"Excuse me," Girl #1 said. "This might sound weird, but..."
Before she could continue I had already decided that she was about to comment on my new red clogs, shipped from Sweden, that you definitely cannot find in the States and can only track down if you an extremely savvy web shopper like I am.
She didn't notice them.
"...you have really cute hair," she said. Girl #2 smiled. "And I'd like to ask you to be a hair model."
"Don't worry -- it's totally reputable. We're from Vidal Sassoon in Beverly Hills so it's not like we're shady."
And then she handed me this card:
When I opened it, I saw this:
Umm, what?? You want me to PAY YOU to be a hair model?
"So, it's only $20 and we give you a lot of freedom to choose a style that works for you. I bring in like 60 girls a month, so this isn't weird at all."
I thought of my favorite hairstylist in Austin. I thought about how paying an extra $30 to have my hair cut by her is way worth it. I thought about how vain I felt, lured in by an empty compliment. I thought about how I probably could have been a Ted Bundy victim given the right... errr, wrong... circumstances.
And then I, being that I left my spine at home this morning, gave her my phone number. My real phone number.