I was on pins and needles waiting for Aunt Daisy’s next email. She said she had a hangover and the board meeting she was going to was important. Just then ping! an email from her.
Hi Sylvia Honey!
Thank goodness, I had a whole day to recover. My meetin’ with Winston, my agent, and the board wasn’t until the next day. I sure am gonna lay off that fire water Jasmine calls champagne.
Jasmine and I sat at her kitchen table drinkin’ cup after cup of coffee, me in my ratty chenille robe and Jasmine in her black silk wrapper. Her red hair was tied to the side in a blue scrunchie while my gray braid was hangin’ down my back.
“Daisy, if you’re going to make a good impression on a New York board, you’ve got to look important. Let’s update your look. We’re going shopping!”
Jasmine eyed me up and down. “Daisy, if you’re going to make a good impression on a New York board, you’ve got to look important.” She poured more coffee. “Let’s update your look. We’re going shopping!”
I looked down at the bald spots in my robe where the chenille had worn off. To me, worryin’ about clothes is as useless as a milk pail with a hole in the bottom.
I sighed. “You’re right. I got enough foldin’ money from the company for sharin’ my recipes with them to stuff two saddlebags. Least I can do is give ‘em Daisy lookin’ good.”
That morning, we hit the high spots. First, the beauty parlor. I got a cut and dye job called ‘Spicy Scarlet.’ My hair looked like a match on fire. I got the full paint job: lipstick, eye shadow, and powder.
Next Jasmine took me to her boutique where we tried on lots of dresses. I gotta admit, they looked better than my jeans and oversized denim jacket.
We settled on a slim black dress with long sleeves and a long, bright, yellow scarf to hide the wrinkles on my neck.
Jasmine snapped her fingers. “The wow factor is kicking in. Now we go for great heels.”
At the ipsy pipsy shoe store, I tried on lots of heels. They looked good but felt like my feet was caught in a bear trap.
“Beauty must suffer,” Jasmine said, wagging her finger, as I laid out good money for pain. “You look ten years younger!”
Great. Now I only look 74.
“Let’s celebrate your new look with dinner and a Broadway show, my treat.”
At the restaurant, the waiters were on roller skates. Our waiter had blue hair and asked, “Do you ladies have a curtain?”
Odd question, I thought and said, “Well, honey, at home in my bungalow in Florida I got some real cute café curtains I made myself. But what does that have to do with orderin’ fish?”
Jasmine giggled and patted my hand. “He means do we have a time limit for dinner and are we going to the theater after.”
The blue haired waiter took our order, rolled his eyes, and skated away.
The next morning, I dolled myself up in my New York clothes. The shoes still hurt but I was ready for that meetin’.
“Knock ‘em off their saddles,” Jasmine said, givin’ me a hug.
The taxi dropped me at the buildin’ where the meetin’ was. On the elevator, I shot up to the 23rd floor. The little gal at the desk walked me to a door that said “Board Room.” I took a deep breath and walked in.
There was a long table with grim lookin’ folks mostly dressed in black sittin’ on chairs with tall gray backs. They looked like they was sittin’ on tombstones.
Winston, the only hombre I knew, jumped up, walked over, and eyed me up and down. “Aunt Daisy? What happened to you?”
It sure sounded like he wasn’t happyfied to see me.
“Winston, honey, I wanted to look like a real New York City woman for the meetin’.”
He slapped his forehead. “But you’ve lost all your ‘Aunt Daisyness.’ That’s what I loved about you!”
Sure is no pleasin’ all the folks, all the time.
I asked, “You want my jeans and oversized denim jacket?”
“Yes, we need publicity shots and you don’t look like the woman behind ‘Jammin’ with Grandma Daisy’! I loved you the way you were!”
I could see how it looked from his vista. They wanted rodeo Daisy.
“You mean I can change these danged toe pinchin’ bear traps for my boots?”
“What size shoe does your wife wear? She can have ‘em! But, the red hair stays!”
I posed for the photos wearin’ the denims I bought at the general store in my little Florida town. The board was happy and I felt my old self again.
That’s Aunt Daisy – true to herself! As she would say, “Everybody has a spark, but if you don’t blow on it, it’ll go out.”