Racine, WI
What a crazy couple of days. For those who know me best, we would all agree that I’m not shy, but I also don’t meet people on the road very often. I tend to sleep on the plane, therefore avoiding having to get trapped into conversation with a potential adulterer posing as an uber-Christian who then buys me the Left Behind book (this has happened). I also love the time of day when I go back to the hotel, usually with takeout in hand, settle against my headboard with my laptop and dinner and usually a terrible in room movie to keep me company. Thus, smiling, greeting, and any general “what’s your story, this is mine” kind of interaction is kept to a minimum. Just the way I like it. Or so I thought.
On Tuesday afternoon I decided that hanging out in the Wausau hotel with nothing to do was not going to hack it. I convinced the hotel to let me check out without a charge (it was 3pm in the afternoon) and I headed towards the Marriott in Racine enjoying the long drive and my book on CD that Leah lent me called Kitchen Confidential. Great book. I highly recommend it. Calling ahead, I begged the Marriott to let me check in a day early. As luck would have it, all they could put me in was their biggest suite. Finally, things are working in my favor.
According to Steve, this was going to be a great Marriott because it had a concierge level. I would say it is an old Marriott with a stale stank to it that makes my eyes tear up, but they do have a concierge level, which translates to free food and beverages, with alcohol to purchase. I decided I deserved a little hot tea and a glass of red wine (strange combination, but god I love the two). Upon entering the room, there were two gentlemen talking on the couch. The concierge was schmoozing it up with them and shamelessly showing them her glamour shots. I was going to take my goods and head back to my room, but the gentlemen seemed fairly approachable and interesting. One was gesticulating wildly about being a Master Colorist and Hair Stylist and I figured I’d settle in and eavesdrop.
Turned out to be a great idea; I ended up hitting it off with them. The hair guy, Lenny, was traveling for work, training stylists on how to properly color/highlight people’s hair with his product. He works for a big company that owns products even I am familiar with (and you know I have little or no knowledge of hair). The other gentleman, David, was originally from London {insert moan of passion over his accent here} but was now moving to Racine to work as an IT programmer of sorts for another big company. Long of the short of it, Lenny asked us to be hair models for him the next day and we accepted. My hair getting dangerously close to my butt and the highlights grown out below my ear, I was both embarrassed and anxious to get it fixed. Especially by someone who pretty much has his PhD in hair. 🙂
After sharing many glasses of wine, the three of us decided it was time to check out the bar scene and grab some food. We stayed out until almost 3am, enjoying the local gay bar where they helped us order some Italian delivery (can you believe I was able to find some non-pizza delivery after 11pm at night)? The next day we dragged ourselves out of bed for a day of beauty at the local salon. I felt like a princess. Everyone petting my hair, discussing how to make it seem more vibrant, less fine, and less frizzy…okay, maybe I felt a little picked over, but it was amazing.
We followed it up with another night of good food and wine, and then I worked their brains a little too hard with yes/no puzzles. Ah, the good life of meeting people. Tonight I might head up to Milwaukee for Jazz in the Park with David.
Moral of this story? When you have a good feeling about people, say hi. You could have great company and free hair styling for the rest of your trip.
The one thing people may be upset to hear is that I gave Lenny complete license with my hair and he cut off about 5 inches. No more long luxurious hair. But let’s face it, the hair was starting to get pretty nasty.
Better late than never. Here’s Lenny! He’ll hate me for showing the picture I took after a long night of wild dancing. At least it’s small.
