I had convinced my sister to come with me to Drybar to get our hair did before “prom.” Really, I wanted her to come because, while I had a dress, I didn’t really have any accessories.
"What do you mean by ‘accessories,’" she asked.
"Well, like jewelry. And a clutch."
We had a long conversation about whether the appointment should be at 11am, or 1pm, based on how long our hair would stay did and also how long we’d need to shop for said accessories.
I remembered in a flash I had bought a handful of dresses on a JCrew run that had been sitting in my closet unworn, including a purple one I finally have the right bra for. So I packed these up, along with some blue suede heels from another JCrew run, and off we went to Drybar.
When we got there, Drybar Flatiron was in the process of shutting down. Like, for good. There was a kiosk near the front desk, where I attempted to access the internet to book us an appointment at one of the other three Drybar locations in Manhattan. It bonked. I looked around for human assistance. None.
Suddenly the IT team showed up and disconnected the internet and started powering down the electricity. A very tan woman with long fingernails appeared, picked up the appointment book, and put it in a box to take away.
Taylor Swift appeared briefly and without plotline.
To add to the stress, my personal trainer (ha ha) told me she was buddying me up with someone from the Junior American Runners Club to train for a 1-hour, 10-minute race where you run down a beach with a cocktail in your hand at the end of March. “You really think I can train to run nonstop for 1 hour and 10 minutes in two months?!”