I’m waiting for Mike to come back from foot surgery…. So, I figured I’d share a funny story.
I’ve been driving Mike to and from work. The short—yet efficient—security guard stood next to our red truck and added me to the visitor list. I didn’t wear any makeup and my short, dark hair stuck out wildly. “I’m sorry for everything you’re going through,” the man blurted, referring to my cancer. “It must be so hard.” Then he shuffled away.
Nearly two weeks have passed, and he’s waved me in every day in my red truck. But Wednesday was different.
I’d decided to dress up and ask Mike out to dinner. I wore makeup, a fancy push-up bra, my fake eyelashes, and a light-colored wig.
I waited for the security guard to wave me through in my little car, but he didn’t.
“Who are you here to see?”
His eyes widened. “And who ARE you?”
“You are not Elisa Magagna.”
All right….mall cop.
“Yeah, I am.”
He shook his head—like there was no foolin’ him!
Then it hit me. I’d dressed like a hooker and now the security guard thought Mike was cheating on me…with me! Cheating on his poor wife who has cancer!
I’m not sure why, but it became so absolutely hilarious that I could not stop laughing. I just saw so much judgment and concern cross the little man’s face.
“Fine.” He clutched a clipboard at his side. “I’ll let you in this once. But he needs to add you to our list. They’re supposed to let us know when new people are coming.”
So, I really confused him with my wig and different car. But now I feel like a freakin’ spy! Yaaassss.
“Mike,” I said after telling him the story, “this could be kind of fun. We can pretend I’m the other woman!”
I was the “other woman” once—a terrible experience that I wish I could rescind. My dad always did say that I’m an angel with one wing in the fire.
So, Mike’s in surgery—and I’m out in the waiting room, wearing my wig—like a legend. I’m sure Mike will do great; it is weird seeing him in a hospital gown vs. the other way around. I’ll be so glad when he’s feeling better.