Step One: Draw Some Ugly Women

With any hobby, talent only comes through hard work and practice.  It was for that reason that my pastime of painting took a hiatus, as did my writing, because I could not produce from either endeavor anything of value in my eyes.  Any compliments from friends become mere polite encouragements, almost like one would compliment a child for some piss-poor drawing by sticking it to the fridge, or so my self esteem would interpret praise.

My paintings were never good enough to me, and the desired masterpieces I could so vividly visualize in my head did not translate well onto canvas.

So I’m starting all over with the basics, and one thing holding me back is my inability to draw still life.  Even my stick figures were not discernibly stick figures.  So I borrowed a head and figure drawing how-to book from my girlfriend and worked with some of the tools she gifted me a Christmas or two ago.  I’ve managed to take the easy instructions and beautiful faces from the aforementioned book and turn them into eyewitness sketches of the offspring of grey aliens and a typical 3AM Walmart shopper.  Portraits might be a bit away, but I’ll get there.  The one skill I don’t think will take me long at all to get a handle on is my use of color.  My paintings in the past were of an abstract nature and I had a love for making pretty messes.  Now I want to focus on making a visually pleasing flow of colors worthy enough to bring someone joy when gazing on one of my pieces in their home.  Turning one's nose up and boasting of owning a “Len Duran” has just the right amount of pompous air to it.

The Nuances of Being Girl

Toward the end of my shift I overheard my coworker, River, ask another staff member for a hair tie.  It was at that moment that the cartoon light bulb you would associate with an idea illuminated over my head.  “I should make a ‘girl kit’.”  I voiced out loud to River.  Met with a quizzical look from her, I elaborated: “Every job I’ve ever had, the staff usually has a majority of women.  They often forget things like hair ties or even more important: tampons”

“Oh.”  She acknowledged.  “They had something like that in our first aid kit at my old store.”

I began to formulate a list of common little things a woman might need in a pinch, yet was often unavailable.  Around that moment, another coworker of mine, Harley, walked into the store.  I approached her with my idea and asked for her input.

“Hair ties for sure.”  She offered.  “Bobby pins too.”

“Dual purposes.”  I added.  “In case one would ever have to pick a lock.”

“Right!?”  She credited my suggestion.  She continued to list other essentials.  “Tampons of course.  Plastic!  Not cardboard!”

“What do you mean?”  I asked.

“They hurt when you put them in.”  She said.

“You mean the applicator?” I inquired, but without waiting for an answer, my brain had already connected the dots of logic.

“Cardboard is absorbent!”  I announced, making a slow, explosive gesture with my hands coming from my head.  “That would cause painful friction.  Why on Earth would they make something like that!?  The sadists.  I know it’s probably really cheap to produce, but come on!”

Harley nodded approvingly.

“What about medication for the kit?”  I asked.  “Like Midol?”

“No, try Pamprin.” Harley endorsed.

“Why Pamprin?”
“Because if you take three of them it’s like taking a Vicodin.”

Just then another coworker of mine, LuLu, arrived on the scene.  I informed LuLu of the idea I had just proposed to River and Harey.

“So far on the list I have: Hair ties, bobby pins, tampons... plastic, not cardboard, as I’ve just learned-”

“Yes!”  She shot.  “Don’t ever get cardboard.  They hurt like a bitch!”

I chuckled.  “Okay, now that I have a consensus, I’m deciding on medication-”

“Get Pamprin.”  She recommended.

“Why Pamprin?”

“Because when you take three of them it’s like taking a Vicodin.”

As I was leaving to head home, two other coworkers, males this time, called for my attention.

“Hey Len, do you have a lighter on you?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”  I stated.  “But you know, I get asked enough to the point where I should just carry one.”

“Oh.”  He said.  “I just figured you would have one since you carried a first aid kit in your bag that one time, and you seem like the type of person that would have a lighter on them in case they got lost in the forest or some shit…”