Robin Alexander: Pitifully Ugly

Feeling sorry for myself, I stood at my window and stared

down at the sidewalk. “I could get one of those.” I watched a

cab pull to the curb and deposit a woman and her dog onto the

sidewalk. The yellow ball of fluff sat patiently at its mistress’s

side as the cabbie was paid. I caught a glimpse of blond curly hair

protruding from the knit cap atop the woman’s head, but that was

all I could see from my third-floor vantage point.

The knit cap with pooch in tow approached a moving van that

pulled to the curb when the cab pulled away. “She must be moving

into the Kellehers’ old apartment.” I watched as my new neighbor

disappeared into the doorway. And then the Oreos began calling

to me again.

I was about to heed their call when I caught a glimpse of

myself in the mirror and stopped in my tracks. I’d put on at least

ten pounds in the year after Cindy left. My hair was out of control.

I’d given up trying to do anything with it. It sat piled on top of my

head, held precariously by a banana clip. My eyebrows rivaled

Andy Rooney’s.

I’d heard Kalen say a dozen times that a makeover worked

miracles. Perhaps it was time I made myself over. I looked at my

reflection again and decided that a diet would have to come first.

The cookies had to go, and I had just enough milk to make that

happen.

I was stuffing the last of them into my mouth when the phone

rang. Kalen’s name showed on the caller ID. I tossed the phone

back onto the table as I listened to her voice on my answering

machine. “I know you’re in there, Shannon. Pick up this phone

because if you don’t, you know I’l be there in five. I have a key—”

“What?” I said around a mouthful of cookie.

Pitifully Ugly

“Be glad you picked up the phone because I have a date for

you.”This news was met with mixed emotion. I was intrigued, but

a little gun-shy after the last fix-up. She was nice, but her cat

pissed in my shoe and bit me on the ankle. All of which he denied,

and she refused to believe that Mr. Jingles was capable of such

behavior.

“Are you still there?” Kalen asked.

“Yes. Who is this person you’re giving me away to?”

“She’s Candace’s cousin. Remember? I told you about

her. Her family owns a restaurant in Harahan, and by the way,

that’s where she’s taking you for dinner tomorrow night. Wear

something nice, no jeans. She’ll call you later this afternoon with

the details.”

I decided not to tell her that jeans weren’t an option anyway

since my ass was hanging out of my only decent pair. “Okay.”

“Excellent,” Kalen said. I could tell she was smiling, pleased

with her accomplishment. “I’ll expect you to call me Sunday

morning with all the details.”

My stomach twisted into knots as I dropped the phone back

onto the table. The comfort cookies weren’t feeling so comfortable

in the pit of my stomach. What would I wear? What would she

think of me? Would I be able to relax around her? Did she have

a cat?

The following evening found me in the front seat of a brand

new Camaro. Jackie, my date for the evening, had chivalrously

opened my door. I studied her as she walked around to the

driver’s side. Dark hair cut stylishly short. Tall but not what I’d

consider slender, which was fine with me. Being sidled up to

some emaciated thing would only make me feel more miserable

about my appearance. Nice smile, pretty green eyes.

“So, Shannon,” she said as she put on her seat belt. “Tell me

all about yourself.”

I hated to hear that question. Just once, I wished I had the girl-

balls to say, I work for the federal government in a department

that I cannot disclose, but I can tell you that I’m trained to kill

Robin Alexander

using nothing more than a toothpick. So when you say you’ll cal ,

you damn well better do it. “I’m kind of a homebody. I like to read

and watch movies. What about you?”

Jackie liked to do a great many things, one of which was talk

about herself, which she did for the thirty minutes it took us to

go two miles. No sooner than we merged onto the interstate, we

came to a complete stop.

“I hate traffic.” Jackie gunned the engine for emphasis. “It

never fails. There’s always an accident or construction jamming

everything up.”

I wanted to commiserate but was distracted by the flush that

rose up the side of her neck and the way she gripped the gearshift.

Instead, I opted for something that would take her mind off the

snarl that had us inching along. “So did I understand correctly

that you were in the military for a while?” Jackie shot me a

sideways glance. The flush that crept up her face was beginning

to spread.

“Did Candace tell you that?”

“I think she might’ve mentioned it to my sister,” I said,

wishing that I’d chosen another topic. Jackie’s face had turned

completely red.

“That’s just like Candy. She loves to tell everyone about how I

was discharged for anger management issues. I mean, you’d think

that the Army would want someone willing to fight.”

Jackie revved the engine as the traffic began to move again at

a snail’s pace. She rhythmically squeezed the steering wheel with

both fists as she stared straight ahead. Awkward silence hung

between us like a veil, and I pondered how long it would take me

to walk back to my apartment.

“People like this piss me off.” Jackie pointed at the car sitting

in front of us as the traffic in front of it moved up at least four

car lengths. “She’s texting her ass off.” Jackie blew the horn, and

the distracted driver gave her the one-finger salute before moving

on. “So what exactly is it that you do?” she asked as we came to

a stop again.

“My sister and I own four hair salons. She’s the—”

Pitifully Ugly

“Bitch! Drive!” Jackie screamed out her window, earning

another salute, but the car did move along. She ran her fingers

through her hair and laughed nervously. “Sorry, what were you

saying?”

I’d like to go home now. “Um…I was telling you what I did

for a living.”

“Right.” Jackie waved her hand for me to continue as she

glared at the car ahead.

“Kalen handles the staff and the promotion of our salons, and

I handle all the paperwork and generally the stuff she doesn’t

want to do. The high side is that I get to work from home.” I think

you’re insane and I’m going to choke my sister and her buddy

Candace for setting me up on this odyssey. I could’ve said the

latter out loud because Jackie was completely focused on the

happy texter in front of us.

“Be right back,” she said as she shifted the car into neutral

and put on the parking brake.

“Where are you—” She was out of the car before I could

finish. I watched in shock as she walked up to the car in front of us,

reached into the driver’s window, and snatched the woman’s cell

phone from her hand. Jackie wound up like she was pitching for

the pros and tossed the phone into the brush along the interstate.

“Fetch, bitch!” she yelled over her shoulder as she marched back

to her car with a twisted smile.

I know I must have looked like I had lockjaw because I

couldn’t close my mouth as she got back into the car and sped off