My Night of Blondness

Ever heard of a midlife crisis?

The above photo is not evidence of one. (Or if I am having one, it's not manifesting itself on my head.)

How about a Maltese Manhunt? Ever heard of one of those?

Our junior high church group recently had one. It involved me (and three other sponsors with whom the kids are familiar) disguising ourselves and then attempting to blend in with the other shoppers at a local mall. Teams of jr. highers combed the crowds looking for us. When they thought they had found one of us, the bravest soul of their group would approach and ask for a code phrase. (Mine was 'tea and crumpets'.) Once the secret phrase was obtained, they would text it to Kym (the gal in charge). The team to text her all four phrases first won the game...

...thus my donning of a wig, prop glasses and scrubs. (Thanks for the loans, Linda and Veronica.) Voila!


Upon seeing my newly disguised self, Jeff commented, "It's amazing how unattractive you can look."

Ummm...thanks?

I wish I had photos of my partners in disguise, but we couldn't afford the $900 fine for taking pictures in the mall. (Isn't that absurd? Especially since most people have cameras on their phones anyway and can discreetly snap photos all over the place.) Alas, my mere descriptions will have to suffice.

Erik--bleached his black hair until he was as blond as a black-haired individual can get.

Jason--wore a long black, super shiny wig and looked like a has-been rock star. (Sorry, Jay, but you know it's true.)

Phil--dressed up like a cowboy, complete with hat and drawn-on sideburns. Yeah, he didn't look suspicious at all. At one point, one of the shop keepers approached Phil and asked why he kept walking around and around in circles. Ummm...because I'm hiding from a bunch of jr. highers...


This whole venture really was a stretch for me. As I roamed the mall for about two hours, I kept thinking someone was going to point and ask, "You're wearing a wig, huh?" or just snatch it off my head and run, waving it in the air.

At one point, I purchased something with my credit card and the salesperson asked to see my ID.

Uh oh, I thought.

"Ummm...I'm wearing a wig right now," I confessed as I held my driver's license out to her.

She didn't bat an eye or even look up at me as she said, "Don't worry about it. I just need to make sure the names match."

Oh, okay. So much for safety in purchasing.

So do blonds have more fun?

Hmmm...

Well, my night of blondness was fun splashed onto a backdrop of paranoia and embarrassment, so I guess this experiment was inconclusive.

Let's see that one shot again:


So explain to me how Sidney Bristow made every disguise look soooo good? I try it once and end up looking like Nurse Ratched's plain jane hench woman!

I see no career in espionage in my future.