DISCLAIMER: The word “stalker” is used loosely in this post, like in the “Kristabel-is-so-totally-obsessed-with-Heraldo-she’s-like-
a-stalker-but-it’s-so-adorable-he-puts-up-with-it” kind of way.
Several weeks ago as I was walking to the store on my lunch break, I saw a cute woman across the street looking at me and smiling. I smiled back at her and gave a little wave. Then she said, “Are you Kristabel?”
I froze in shock and didn’t answer thinking I must have misunderstood her. She asked again, “Are you Kristabel?”
I hurried across the street to her. “How’d you know?” She laughed and said that she knew I must work in the neighborhood because of some of the pictures I’d posted of the surroundings. She also said that she recognized my hair. She hugged me and sweetly said how much she liked Chocolate Covered Xanax. I was very flattered but oddly I wasn’t sure what to say. Finally I mumbled, “Please don’t tell anyone who I am. I post pictures of my sex toy mishaps.” She said she wouldn’t, and we both went on our way.
I thought about her a few times after that. She seemed smart, nice and like someone I’d like to be friends with. I almost delivered some marshmallows to her. I almost asked if she wanted to grab a cup of coffee, but I didn’t. It just seemed…..weird.
Friday morning I looked down at my flip-flop clad feet and gasped at the ugliness. The red toenail polish was chipped and my heels looked like the bottom of a dry creek bed, so I decided to treat myself to a pedicure at The Spa. I deserve it right? Don’t answer that.
I arrived a little bit early for my appointment (on purpose – so I could drink a bunch of the yummy cucumber water) and was sitting in a chair waiting when who should appear at the counter? My blog stalker.
We exchanged hellos, talked about the joys of painting, waxing and wearing dresses in the sun, and she headed out the door as I headed back to the pedicure tub.
After the treatment, I sat lounging in the happiness of being pampered and waiting for my now-gorgeous bright orange toes to dry. Just as I was about to slip on my sandals, the receptionist came over. “I just wanted to let you know that your pedicure’s been paid for by the best blog stalker ever, so whenever you’re ready you can just skip on out of here.” Again she had managed to completely shock me, and I was extremely touched. What a totally unexpected act of kindness and generosity.
I thank you, blog stalker, from the bottom of my chubby painted toes. You’re definitely getting some marshmallows.