WENDY JO'S WACKY WEDNESDAY (1588 Word Count) (standard:humor, 1582 words)
Author: Rosie Jay	Added: Oct 02 2006	Views/Reads: 3160/2060	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Wendy Jo gives one hilarious account about what happened to her the day she pretended to be who she wasn't. Funny Stuff.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

I knew "across the street" meant the Pennywell Bank because she worked
for her father.  But "sur¬prise everyone?"  It sure wasn't the Beatrice 
I'd heard about!  Did she get hypnotized or something? 

At first I tried—I really did.  "If you call for an appoint¬ment—“ 

"No way!" she shot back.  Her eyes grew beady-like.  "One way or
another, today's the day!"  Then she glanced at my pink smock. 

I don't know.  All of a sudden I got this flash.  With Aunt Minerva's
customers fussing about those new meters, wouldn't a Pennywell in the 
shop be great for business?  And here I was, already looking the part.  
"Hmm, what did you have in mind?" I said, Aunt Minerva-like.  The words 
just shot out!  But right then I wasn't worried.  This won't get far, I 
was thinking.  After I do a shampoo, Aunt Minerva will surely show 
up... 

Only it never happened.  Beatrice plopped in a chair, making herself
comfy.  Before I knew it I was elbow-deep in lather.  I moved slower 
than molasses for sure, but when I finished Aunt Minerva was still a 
no-show. 

Beatrice was bonkers to get on with it, so I stalled for more time. 

"Wonderful day, isn't it?" I said, strolling to the door, breathing in
deep. Again, no Aunt Minerva.  Now what?  "Let's take off a few split 
ends," I suggested.  "Nothing drastic--just a neat little trim."  I 
pretended my way through all the motions, hardly touching her hair at 
all. 

Already it was past two-thirty.  That’s when the really hard part came. 
I was feeling mighty alone like in those movies you see, where all the 
people in town have vanished except you?  And Beatrice was positively 
antsy by then. 

"This is it!" she squeaked, rubbing her hands together. 

Jeez, I thought Aunt Minerva had left the planet.  "Be back in a jif," I
said. 

Hopelessly, I went to the back room and dug out all the stuff.  Turning
Beatrice's mousy-brown hair to sunny blonde wouldn't be easy for 
anybody, but there I was--in this mess up to those flowered hair combs 
with no turning back.  Slowly and carefully I read all the directions, 
trying to ignore the horrible, sinking feeling. 

Beatrice hollered from the front.  "What's taking so long back there?" 

"Just a few minutes longer...Read a magazine." 

Then an amazing thing happened.  I got brave or something!  I figured I
was in so deep, how could it possibly get worse?  I pasted on a 
goofy-looking smile, marched back out, and lined up all the bottles. 

Beatrice looked annoyed.  If she only knew... 

Not wanting to blow my cover, I stayed mostly quiet during the whole
terrible confusion, concentrating on all the mixings, applications, and 
timings.  But Beatrice never caught on.  She just sat there with all 
these goobed-up parts in her hair, chirping con¬stantly.  "Won't they 
be surprised by the new me?"...”Francois will have a fit"..."Maybe I'll 
take a trip to Europe...” 

What I said back seems like a blur now, but I do remember a lot of
"uhums" and "oh, reallys." There was only one thing on my mind.  When 
this was all over, I was never going to open my big trap again! 

Somehow, at four o'clock it was over—all over—and I was positively
pooped!  But that Beatrice, she just zoned out and stared in the mirror 
for what seemed like forever.  This is it, I told myself.  I'm history. 


But I couldn't believe what I heard next!  She whispered the word like
she was in a trance—“PERFECT!”    She even liked that weird lavender 
cast her hair took on in a certain light!  "It makes me look so...so 
“au currant,” she gushed. 

I stood frozen, praying she wouldn't ask me to explain how it got there.


Suddenly, right then, Aunt Minerva waltzed in.  "I'm so sorry, sweetie! 
It took much longer than I antici--"  She stopped short, taking it all 
in.  Beatrice was still adoring herself in the mirror.  And me?  I was 
feeling mighty queasy. 

"This is Beatrice Pennywell," I muttered, wishing I could disappear. 

"Yes...I know." Aunt Minerva's eyes darted back and forth between us. 
She wasn't smiling. 

But good old Beatrice kept going.  "I love what she's done"¬..."She's
transformed me totally!”... “Wait till Francois sees THIS!” 

"How...uh...wonderful,” was Aunt Minerva's comeback.  Considering the
look on her face, it came out really smooth. 

Well, finally, Beatrice woke up.  "Ooh, I'm running late, but I'll be
back for a touch-up, only next time I'll call for an appointment."  
Then, just like that, she jerked herself up, leaving some money on the 
cosmetic counter.  Before she slammed the door she said, “Poor 
Francois.  He’s going to pout.”  Then she almost danced across the 
street and was into the bank before Aunt Minerva could utter a word. 

But I beat her to it.  When she opened her mouth I did some fast
talking.  "But she LOVES it, Aunt Minerva!” I heard myself sum up.  
"It's not like you have to worry about a lawsuit or anything!" 

The word lawsuit made Aunt Minerva weak in the knees.  She slumped into
a chair, and the last thing I did that day was fan her with a towel, 
promising to never ever do that again! 

Well, that's it.  All this happened about three months ago, and you know
what?  Beatrice has been back to the shop twice since then!  But I've 
been strangely absent during her visits.  Aunt Minerva is very strict 
about that. 

As for me, I know how close I came to throwing the beauty shop in the
dumper.  So now that she's talking to me again, I'm very happy to be 
just who I was before.  Like I said—Wendy Jo Baker, a regular kid doing 
plain old regular stuff. 

Oh, one final thing.  Beatrice finally snagged a boyfriend that night at
the dinner party, and even though I'd never say this to 
anyone—especially Aunt Minerva—sometimes I get to thinking.  Maybe it 
had something to do with that weird lavender cast that got in her hair. 


You think? 


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