The Best of Auntie Mae’s Various Ramblings on Life in a Small Town Series

Ida Mae Nowes

Nubbins Special Correspondent 

I was 20 minutes late to my hairdresser appointment this week, and I’ll tell you why.

I forgot the cardinal rule of small town living: You will run into someone you know, so be prepared.

If you’re not there at Cathy’s Cutt-n-Run exactly on time, you run the risk of somebody slipping right in to fill your spot, believe you me. It’s wicked – the competition to sit in one of her green plastic thrones and fill up on town gossip while Cathy’s wonderful hands massage your head. I had made my appointment an entire week earlier and had been looking forward to it every day since.

I’ll conveniently lay the blame on skyrocketing gas prices. I like to walk or even ride my three-speeder around town, but I generally drive Broonhilda (my green Ford Escort) when I go on errands. But that day I decided I’d be dagnabbed if I’d throw $3.00 a gallon down the drain when I could easily walk the mile and a half to Nubbins town center. Besides, it was a beautiful, early fall day – it would be good for me. I left in what I thought was plenty of time.

I hadn’t gotten to the end of the driveway before I ran into my neighbor, LuAnn, who was walking her dog, Wingnut. Wingnut broke her leg a couple of months ago and is still in recuperation mode. LuAnn’s trying to figure out whether she’d rather own a three-legged mutt or a limpy mutt, and I made the mistake of asking how all that was going. The truth is, I was really interested and thought to myself, “This will only take a minute,” plunging into the conversation head first.

Ten minutes later, I realized LuAnn was still no closer to a decision, but I had learned about all there was to know about doggy orthopedics, as well as the life stories of every three-legged dog in the county.

As I said goodbye to LuAnn and Wingnut, I walked along at a slightly brisker pace, thinking I still had lots of time. Suddenly I realized Myrtle Butts was down on her knees in her yard planting mums. What was the poor old woman thinking, having just had gall bladder surgery the week before? Without even realizing what I was doing, I found myself kneeling right next to her offering to give her a hand. 

I was nice and dirty before I realized the mistake I had made, although I don’t suppose Myrtle thought of it as a mistake. I said my apologies for leaving her in the dirt, brushed off my hands and knees, and scurried off in the direction of Cathy’s. 

I was good when Roberta yelled out her window for me to come have a cup of tea, waving and telling her I was on my way to get my hair done. But I have to confess I was not so good when I saw Moral Sneedly walking down my side of the road with his cane wagging in front of him (the man is blind as a bat), and I switched to the other side. At this point I was already 10 minutes late and I was a woman on a mission. 

Helga Lee was coming out the door when I bustled up to the Cutt-n-Run and wanted to tell me all about the upcoming bridge party and no doubt complain about the inept playing strategies of half the women there, but I was beyond politeness at this point. I said “Can’t stop now, Helga – call me later,” and rushed on in.

Sure enough, both plastic thrones were filled up with people I used to consider friends – both of them smiling over at me with a condescending look that said “You snooze, you lose.”

“Well, there you are Auntie Mae,” Cathy said as she snipped away at the practically bald man smiling delightedly beneath her busy fingers. “I called your house and didn’t get an answer, so I figured you must have forgotten about your appointment. Boyd, here, was waiting to get his hair cut, so I just let him squeeze on in. I hope that’s okay.”

Boyd’s grin got bigger, and I considered walking over and smacking it off his face with my purse.

“I’ve got to do Bessie Lou-Lou’s highlights next, but I can get to you right after her. Will that work?” Cathy said.

I sighed. It was my own fault, really. I’d forgotten the cardinal rule. And after all, isn’t that what we like about living in a small town – the fact that we know each other and like to keep an eye on each other? 

“Sure, that’s fine,” I said as I sat down in one of the waiting-area chairs and made myself comfortable. “This way you can fill me in on everything that’s been going on.”

And that’s what I did. But I made a mental note that next time, I’d allow three full hours to get from here into town.