Hair Nets aren't good for your self-esteem.

So, this upcoming story, is a story I am ashamed to tell. It is a story that happened a couple of weeks ago....

I want to add a disclaimer that, post this horror story, I was production coordinator for Katie Couric, and worked personally with her. By worked personally with her, I mean I watched her from a distance, and smiled at her when she looked my way. I even offered her a chip out of my favorite sun dried tomato sun chip bag. Then talked to her before and after the shoot, posed for pictures, discussed colon cancer.....

Ok, so now that i have earned your respect, and we both understand that I am a big deal, I feel I can continue with this story.

It was a sunny day full of promise. I was finally going to be seen as something other than a retarded waitress, that occasionally got your order right. I was going to be a tradeshow model for an up and coming multi millionaire dollar company. My ego was stroked, every time I told the story, to my peers, of what I had planned for the upcoming week for income. Yes, ladies and gentleman, I was going to be paid to be beautiful. I didn't know if hair and make up was provided, but that was okay. Because, they saw something in me, and maybe they thought my natural beauty would suffice.

The night before the big day, I laid out my outfit. You can never be too prepared when opportunity is knocking at your door ( Thank You John Shearin). I had my hair conditioned, with the good stuff, so it felt like mr. snuggles teddy bear on your finger tips. My make up, was flawless, laying out for a morning of application. My outfit, was ironed. Ok, that was a lie, but it was wrinkle free nonetheless.

They tell me to ride the subway to the hotel. To most, this would've been a red flag. I'm pretty sure Heidi Klum gets to ride a limo to her events, why do I get the subway? But, it's all a lesson in patience, so I remind myself, it's all baby steps.

I arrive at what I think will be a red carpet five star hotel, and to my surprise it is not. Instead it is a Marriot three star. I look around and see no one, not even a red carpet is lurking around in the distance. I ask the desk receptionist, where I should set up, she rolls her eyes at me and sends me to the basement. Again, Red flag number I lost count. And, I'll excuse the fact she doesn't know who I am yet. So me and my optimism take the stairs into a dark basement.

I see two older ladies sitting at the desk. Behind them is a mountain of hair nets. That's strange, the hairstylist got replaced by a hair net. It must be an event where they are making cafeteria lady the new thing. I keep seeing fashion shows like these in magazines, where they put them in homeless resembling clothes. She then proceeds to tell me to place this name tag on my shirt, where I write in permanent marker my name. I ask her, " Won't this mess up my outfit?" She laughs, and tells me it's just a sticker. RED FLAG!!! She then tells me to put my hair in a pony tail and hands me a hair net. I ask her in my sweetest southern tone, " Excuse me, but is this hair-net really nesscessary?" She aggressively attacks me with a, " OUR CLIENT REQUIRES IT!" Ok, so I'm wearing the hair net, no prob bob.

She tells me to go wait in the van. I go to the van. Where a gentleman picks me up. He tells me all about New York, and I immediately decide he should be my surrogate grandfather. He then takes me to the corner, and tells me to have fun. I assure him I will.

It was in this moment, I realize there is no fun to be had. I realize I have been lied to, deceived, and I have just been dropped off at a costco in the bronx. I am not a model. More importantly this is not a tradeshow. I try and chase grandaddy down, let me back into the van, let me rip this hair net off my head.

But, instead, granddad didn't see me. I now have no choice but to hand out food samples at Costco. Anyone that applies gets this job, I'm not special. And this damn hair net itches.

I decide to make the best of it, and make friends with one of the girls. On our break, us and our hairnets get a costco hotdog. But, when we get to the break room, she sits on the opposite side. I thought that was depressing in itself, but I was like story of my life. But, then, she starts staring at me. I smile and look down. She sat across the room staring at me the entire 30 minutes. So me and hairnet got creepers starring at us, while I sit in the breakroom of costco which is in the bronx. This is not how I envisioned this evening to unfold. Infact, this isn't really how I envisioned my life to unfold.

But, I keep my head up, because tomorrow I will be a back up dancer for Timbaland's new music video. Long story short, I get to the shoot, and they are SOOOO excited I am there, could I please run food over to dressing rooms. I politely ask when I should get ready, and they say, mumble. The answer to my question soon revealed to me that it was never. I wasn't going to be a tradeshow model, and I sure as hell wasn't going to be a backup dancer.

All I'm saying is my undergraduate training did not prepare me for hair net wearing and food delivery.

PS. Momma, I hope your still proud.