Cats and Dogs

Dripping
Originally uploaded by Tampen.

You know that old schoolyard joke about it raining cats and dogs, so you best take care not to step in a poodle? (Ba-doom tish!) Well it was that sort of afternoon in Chicago yesterday and I was in a foul mood for it.

Umbrellas were simply no match for the downpour and my knee-high boots revealed two small holes in them that meant I had sodden stocking feet within about 10 minutes. So I mooched around Macy's looking like a drowned rat, in a crowd of equally drowned rats, trying to decide why I was getting lost in a department store rather than going straight to the Cult in the first place.

The Young Members at the Cult threw a party last night that was meant to be from 8pm to midnight, but given that my workday finished at 4.30pm - and rush hour traffic was a nightmare at best on Fridays so going home wasn't an option, I was at a loss to what I should do beforehand.

My search for an after-work diversion led me to Macy's owing to an afternoon mishap with makeup that meant I couldn't wear my white cardigan to the party anymore. I had made a rush purchase of a backup cardi after lunch, but the impulsiveness made me doubt the entire ensemble in retrospect, so I think I figured a trip to Macy's might help. So in the pouring rain I trudged, fluffy jacket getting soaked and my umbrella only serving to irritate me more as it got blown inside out and upside down. Seeking refuge with the other drowned rats in Macy's I soon found the women's fashion section and debated the respective merits of a Kenneth Cole jersey dress versus a Theory pant suit, before trying them both on in the fitting room and ultimately declaring myself too fat for everything.

So in that stellar mindset, I went across the street to get the bus about six blocks to the Cult and of course, traffic was at a standstill on State Street in the rush hour rainfest. So I went into Payless Shoes to find some cheap stockings to replace my soaked pair. None of the shop assistants were being particularly helpful, so I marched around the store looking for the stockings, becoming more dejected by the second. As I was about to leave, a rather large woman shifted to one side and voila, there were the stockings right by the registers! How does one woman obscure an entire shelf of stockings, I still have no idea. In any case, I grabbed a pair and sloshed through the puddles to the warmth and safety of the Cult.

After a hot shower with all showerheads blasting on full, I was feeling a little more like myself again and set about to finish doing my hair and make-up. I was looking forward to the pampering and putting a fresh face on. Fresh makeup and clean hair just makes me feel better and more equipped to face things. But what's this I see - or rather, I don't see? I had left my eyeliner pencil at home. My beautiful eyeliner that I love more than anything else in my makeup bag, and the one item that finishes my 'look' off. Great God Almighty, could the day get any worse?!

And for the first time ever, no other women were in the change rooms with me so I couldn't even borrow some eyeliner in this emergency situation. So I weighed up my options. Did I want to go back out in the rain to the pharmacy and buy a new pencil? No. Did I want to face the party without eyeliner on? Hell no. So what did I do? I called my friend Lisa, who was coming to the party with me, and left some unintelligible, whiny blubbery voicemail about a bad mood, heavy rain, wet feet, no eyeliner, impending nervous breakdown.....

And when Lisa and her room mate arrived at 8pm to find me eating dinner alone in the Cult, sans eyeliner, they did the 'good friend thing' and told me I looked awesome. I could have cried in despair. When Lisa then produced some eyeliner and agreed to apply it for me, I realised that the night was finally turning around.

As it turned out, my feet were dry, my hair looked good, and my friends had a good time at the party. And that made it all worth turning up for.