So this Saturday, the generally down to earth and tomboyish trio of Lisa, K-Na, and yours truly got girly. Having complained about our need for haircuts via IM for weeks, we decided to not only remedy the situation, but to do so all together, at the same salon, with the same picture of Rachel Bilson as reference (seriously, if you're looking for some face-framing, this picture can't be beat). It was a brilliant plan. The cuts were perfect, and we were looking ridiculously hot, natch. Loose in Beverly Hills, giddiness unchecked, we flung our hair about for added effect and planned to do what any sexily coiffed chicks in the area would: get cupcakes at Sprinkles.
Unsure of Sprinkles' precise location and worried that the skies might soon rain on our hair parade, we hopped in K-Na's Corrolla and proceeded to exit the public parking lot on Brighton Way. Waiting to pay, we were lined up with the cars entering the structure, which were stopped due to an anticipated spot departure ahead of them. A man in a Range Rover rolled up opposite our estrogen overloaded selves. Lisa spied the man first, looking dapper in a charcoal suit, and discreetly pointed him out. Discretion was tossed aside shortly, however, when K-Na, unaware that her window was rolled down, exclaimed in awe: "It's Jack!!!"
Mortification. And yet...what was this? He was turning down his radio and leaning out of the Range Rover to chat us up. "Happy Saturday", Kiefer Sutherland said. "I see you guys have presents...where are you headed?" Panties, meet floor. We had no idea we were all in love with Kiefer Sutherland until that very moment. And yet we were, desperately. "Umm...anywhere you are, Mr. Bauer", we thought. What we actually said? Oh...something more along the lines of "We got our hair cut! We are friends!!!".
Would we be for long, though? We couldn't all be with Kiefer.
And then, just as quickly as the traffic flow had brought Kiefer into our lives, it whisked him away. Before I even had a chance to win him over with my compelling impression of him, post-Valencia nuke. Before K-Na could explain the gift bags in her back seat. Before Lisa could confess her bravery that day: she hadn't had bangs in years.
Cruel, cruel fate. The three of us are now destined to wander the streets of Beverly Hills, our hair perfectly roll-brushed, our arms laden with presents, our hearts full of hope that we will once again pique Kiefer's interest.
Oh God. I shouldn't have said anything. You're going to do it now too, aren't you? Damn it.
