This afternoon, at precisely 4:38, I suppressed what would’ve been a noteworthy and somewhat startling chortle.
A certain meeting with a new design client rambled and meandered on and on for, what seemed like, hours and hours, but turned out to be only HOURS. Daphne is opening a spa/salon in an isolated hamlet about twenty miles East of Raleigh. Her intent is that it be a den of complete indulgence: full and partial body massages, manicures and pedicures, mud baths, and copious glasses of red wine. Naturally, all activities will be framed within glamorous furnishings and trendy hues. (For example, one notion is to place four peacock-blue, leather and studded wingbacks around an ottoman covered in chartreuse velvet.)
I asked Daphne why she chose Lizard Lick to locate such a new undertaking. (Yep, skeptics, there is indeed a Lizard Lick! You might recall that there is also a towing company there, albeit now of Reality Show fame.) She looked at me squarely in the eyes and offered: “well, frankly the women out here need a place to drink!”
It was indeed a point well-taken. I started visualizing my sketches. We city folk understand far too well the importance of “libation stations” in this modern world of ours. The salon was merely a justification intended to stave off the naysayers, tee-totalers, and winged monkeys.
(Image: “HAY QUE REGAR EL JARDÍN” by Sergio Mora, 2013.)