“Hey Kar you think you could go easy with that stuff?” I gently push her hand away before she can sponge on even more liquid foundation than is necessary to my already made-up face, but my long-term friend and beautician of twenty-something years simply ignores my futile pleas and continues to dab ruthlessly at my skin.
Feeling frustrated I sigh and slump back into my chair. After all these years I should know better – once Karen is in the zone there is no snapping her out of it. As she likes to remind me, “I am her blank canvas and I should respect her craft.”
Pft. Whatever.
The way she’s going the audience is going to think Latoya is here tonight as a stand in for my induction into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame. Yes I look that made up - I actually look like a girl!
“Michael why are you so crabby tonight? Anyone would think you weren’t happy to be receiving this accolade.” I watch her pout and take out her frustration on a Kohl pencil as she tosses it into her case before throwing her arms across her chest, then throws me “the look” which signifies she’s waiting for a suitable explanation for my behaviour.
“I’m sorry Turkle I guess I’m just tired is all.” I fake a stifled yawn and make my lame ass excuse in an attempt to throw her off a scent which I know if I let my guard down for even a second, sniffer dog here will pounce all over that bone and will never let it go until I spill the beans.
A few seconds pass where she tries her best to suss out if I’m telling the truth or not and content that I am indeed being honest, she picks up where she left off and attacks my already heavily painted face, only this time she switches her focus onto my eyes.
I sigh.
Feeling frustrated I sigh and slump back into my chair. After all these years I should know better – once Karen is in the zone there is no snapping her out of it. As she likes to remind me, “I am her blank canvas and I should respect her craft.”
Pft. Whatever.
The way she’s going the audience is going to think Latoya is here tonight as a stand in for my induction into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame. Yes I look that made up - I actually look like a girl!
“Michael why are you so crabby tonight? Anyone would think you weren’t happy to be receiving this accolade.” I watch her pout and take out her frustration on a Kohl pencil as she tosses it into her case before throwing her arms across her chest, then throws me “the look” which signifies she’s waiting for a suitable explanation for my behaviour.
“I’m sorry Turkle I guess I’m just tired is all.” I fake a stifled yawn and make my lame ass excuse in an attempt to throw her off a scent which I know if I let my guard down for even a second, sniffer dog here will pounce all over that bone and will never let it go until I spill the beans.
A few seconds pass where she tries her best to suss out if I’m telling the truth or not and content that I am indeed being honest, she picks up where she left off and attacks my already heavily painted face, only this time she switches her focus onto my eyes.
I sigh.
There’s no reasoning with this chick so I guess tonight the drag queen look it’ll be!
I really should’ve fired her ass when I had the chance, but finding a semi-trustworthy makeup artist in Hollywood is a rarity and call me a sentimental old fool but we’ve shared some good times together, even if at times she is a freakin’ big mouth.
Yes she’s a little aloof and stalker-ish at times, pertaining to know everything there is to know about me and be all up in my business, but in all fairness she’s harmless enough and most of the time she does a pretty good job at making me feel dare-I-say-it handsome. But tonight, well Paris could have done a better job!
So after ten more minutes of polite indulgence on my part, I tell her nicely to go take a hike and go mingle so I can chill for a while. I should be over the moon that I’m receiving this accolade but the truth is, like my make-up, tonight I.ain’t.feeling.it.
I guess you could say I got woman trouble. Or trouble(s) seeing as though I got a couple on the go right now. I’ve never been one to discriminate or turn down a female if they show even the slightest hint of interest, hence the reason for my two failed marriages. But now, well now it’s starting to be a royal pain in the caboose.
Coupled with the fact that almost daily I’m getting lectures from my Rabbi friend Schmuley on how I should be trying to find a “good woman” to take care of me and the children, well sometimes I think is all of this hoe-ing around worth it?
But I’m a Jackson, it’s in my blood. And the truth is – I love women.
I guess you could say I’m an equal opportunity lover. Yep I love dem girlz!
Short girls, tall girls, skinny girls, chunky girls, young girls, old girls, brown girls, white girls, Asian girls, Indian girls – well you get the picture!
Talking of girls—
“What up sexy?”
“What up? Sexy? Mike are you high?”
“Girl, why do you always got to be negative?”
“Why you always gots to answer a question with a question?”
“Well why do you always have to sound so ghetto?” I crack up when I hear her huff into the phone, I can picture her now – her forehead frowning, her lips pouting like a fish, gosh she’s so cute when she’s angry.
“Okay I was calling you to say break a leg but now I think I’m gon’ change that to I hope you break your neck instead.”
“Sweetie I think you just may have hurt my feelings.” I continue to tease and provoke my very good female friend of five years.
“Well you have to have a heart to hurt feelings in the first place boy.”
“Guuuuurl if you let me have my wicked way with you – you would not be calling me no damn boy.”
“Ew Mike I keep telling you that’s neeeeeeeever gonna happen.”
“J the more you run the harder I will chase, one day girl, one day we’re going to make swe—“
The sound of someone’s knuckles wrapping on the door interrupts our conversation, dammit. I was so close to breaking her down, I could feel it.
“Uh Mr. Jackson s-sorry to interrupt you sir but the ceremony is about to start.” I nod my head in understanding at one of my goons before he slips out of the door giving me privacy once again.
“Jade sweetie you know you’re my little ray of sunshine in a sad, gloomy, dark world right?”
“Pft whatever Mike, I’m yo’ reality check and don’t you forget it!”
I giggle at her forced ghetto-ness and promise to call her later to let her know all of the “goss” on N-Sync and if Lance really is gay. Like I give a sh!t. But I’ll humor my friend all the same ‘cuz I may need some of her priceless advice a bit later on.
I really should’ve fired her ass when I had the chance, but finding a semi-trustworthy makeup artist in Hollywood is a rarity and call me a sentimental old fool but we’ve shared some good times together, even if at times she is a freakin’ big mouth.
Yes she’s a little aloof and stalker-ish at times, pertaining to know everything there is to know about me and be all up in my business, but in all fairness she’s harmless enough and most of the time she does a pretty good job at making me feel dare-I-say-it handsome. But tonight, well Paris could have done a better job!
So after ten more minutes of polite indulgence on my part, I tell her nicely to go take a hike and go mingle so I can chill for a while. I should be over the moon that I’m receiving this accolade but the truth is, like my make-up, tonight I.ain’t.feeling.it.
I guess you could say I got woman trouble. Or trouble(s) seeing as though I got a couple on the go right now. I’ve never been one to discriminate or turn down a female if they show even the slightest hint of interest, hence the reason for my two failed marriages. But now, well now it’s starting to be a royal pain in the caboose.
Coupled with the fact that almost daily I’m getting lectures from my Rabbi friend Schmuley on how I should be trying to find a “good woman” to take care of me and the children, well sometimes I think is all of this hoe-ing around worth it?
But I’m a Jackson, it’s in my blood. And the truth is – I love women.
I guess you could say I’m an equal opportunity lover. Yep I love dem girlz!
Short girls, tall girls, skinny girls, chunky girls, young girls, old girls, brown girls, white girls, Asian girls, Indian girls – well you get the picture!
Talking of girls—
“What up sexy?”
“What up? Sexy? Mike are you high?”
“Girl, why do you always got to be negative?”
“Why you always gots to answer a question with a question?”
“Well why do you always have to sound so ghetto?” I crack up when I hear her huff into the phone, I can picture her now – her forehead frowning, her lips pouting like a fish, gosh she’s so cute when she’s angry.
“Okay I was calling you to say break a leg but now I think I’m gon’ change that to I hope you break your neck instead.”
“Sweetie I think you just may have hurt my feelings.” I continue to tease and provoke my very good female friend of five years.
“Well you have to have a heart to hurt feelings in the first place boy.”
“Guuuuurl if you let me have my wicked way with you – you would not be calling me no damn boy.”
“Ew Mike I keep telling you that’s neeeeeeeever gonna happen.”
“J the more you run the harder I will chase, one day girl, one day we’re going to make swe—“
The sound of someone’s knuckles wrapping on the door interrupts our conversation, dammit. I was so close to breaking her down, I could feel it.
“Uh Mr. Jackson s-sorry to interrupt you sir but the ceremony is about to start.” I nod my head in understanding at one of my goons before he slips out of the door giving me privacy once again.
“Jade sweetie you know you’re my little ray of sunshine in a sad, gloomy, dark world right?”
“Pft whatever Mike, I’m yo’ reality check and don’t you forget it!”
I giggle at her forced ghetto-ness and promise to call her later to let her know all of the “goss” on N-Sync and if Lance really is gay. Like I give a sh!t. But I’ll humor my friend all the same ‘cuz I may need some of her priceless advice a bit later on.
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