COSMETOLOGY CLASS
By Jerry Rabushka
Copyright © 2000
one male or female
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CAST:
(Our narrator is probably a junior or senior in high school who is a
selfish, spoiled, inconsiderate little brat who thinks SHE knows
everything. In fact, those are her good qualities.)
So-my mother makes me go and take this cosmetology seminar.
I mean me! At a cosmetology seminar! That’s like sending Michael
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Jordan to basketball camp. It’s like sending Alanis Morissette to voice
lessons. Oh. (laughs) Never mind.
See-Mom just doesn’t get it. She thinks I am a cosmetological
ignoramus. Cosmetologically challenged. She goes, (as mom) “And I
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won’t have you going to the prom looking like Catwoman.”
So I said, “Mom, Michelle Pfeiffer was Catwoman. If I can look
like Michelle Pfeiffer-”
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(as mom) Nope! It’s Catwoman. Michelle Pfeiffer would never
go out of the house made up like that!
(as herself) Well, meow, meow, meow meow! So okay, okay,
okay. (exasperated) Two hundred and fifty dollars. A month’s worth of
lip gloss just so I can get my mother off my make-up case. Well, okay,
let me set the scene. First of all, it was full of old, old women. You know,
twenty-five, twenty-six, I mean, we’re talking old. Like, sure, if you want
First, there was Laurie:
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to put Revlon on a corpse, be my guest.
(as LAURIE; SHE should, at least at first, take a couple
seconds to get into these characters; LAURIE talks like an
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airhead.) “Uh, what’s the difference between a blush and a base?”
(herself) Oh, great, now I’m in cosmetology kindergarten. Like
this is so educational.
And Laurie says, (as LAURIE) “Excuse me, but I’m here to learn
– and looking at your face, you are too - so you can just leave that
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shallow cheerleader attitude in your locker!”
I’m like “Laurie, with that face, get out the soldering iron.”
Then there was Victoria:
(as Victoria) “For me, this is a journey in self-discovery. And I’d
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like to discover how to accentuate my eyelashes and de-emphasize my
nose, while maintaining the beauty I was born with.”
“Simple, Victoria. It’s called a paper bag. In your case, it’s called
two.” So then she pulls this make-up kit out of her purse to show the
instructor.
(as Victoria) “What can I do to enhance the effectiveness of my
make-up portfolio?”
“Try burning it, Victoria.” Make-up portfolio? It was a plastic bag full of
lipstick and half-opened bottles of rouge leaking all over the inside of the
bag. It looked like a lung. And she looked like something someone had
dissected in last week’s biology lab. So I’m like, “Victoria, listen to me.
Do not put any of that on your face. Actually, I think you should put your
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face in that bag, put the bag in your purse, and latch the whole thing
shut. And if there’s a key, Victoria – throw it away and don’t keep a copy
under the mat.” So she wouldn’t speak to me for the rest of the seminar.
Oh, like that hurt.
Oh, and then! Then there was our instructor. (The faster SHE can reel
this name off the more effective it should be) Miss Donna Ladonna
Prima Donna Estee Lauder Bought It On Sale At Seven Eleven (slow
down) Elvira M. Jones. Okay. I made most of that up. I don’t know what
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the M. stood for, but I assume it was like for mega-ignorant? Oh, and
like she really didn’t want to answer me when I called her that, but I
gave her no choice. So I said, “Miss Donna Ladonna Prima Donna
Estee Lauder Bought It On Sale At Seven Eleven Elvira M. Jones? (as
Elvira but mocking her at the same time) “Class, we are all here to
learn. Even someone like me who knows it all can learn something from
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teaching people like you – well except for you, she told me.
And I said “Know it all? Know it all, Miss Jones?? If you knew half of
what I know you would know better than to teach a cosmetology
seminar wearing rouge roughly two shades darker than an undercooked
Idaho potato.”
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Her response:
(as Elvira) “Ma’am. It’s not possible for me to know half of what
you know, or I’d be an Idaho potato.” Well, I was never so insulted in all
my life, and when I expressed my opinion, she retorted.
(as Elvira) “Really? With that make-up, I’m surprised you’re not
insulted all day long.”
(as Laurie) “But first someone would have to mistake you for a
human being.”
(as herself, offended) “Shut up, Laurie!”
(as Laurie) “You started it!”
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(herself) “No, you did by being ugly.”
(Laurie) “Well, you’re make-up is simply an extension of how
ugly you are on the interior!”
(as Elvira, clapping hands authoritatively) “Both of you, be
quiet this instant or I’ll knock you on your posterior!”
(pause) Whatever! Some people just don’t appreciate a young
obviously failed.
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woman who likes to experiment. Some people for whom the experiment
So I finally got Miss Donna Ladonna Prima Donna Estee Lauder
Bought It On Sale At Seven Eleven Elvira M. Jones off my back, and
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she starts in with this boring lecture about base and foundation – I
mean, these women needed Spackle! When suddenly a very rotund
woman in the back…look, I hate to be mean, but she was fat, portly,
obese, humongo, giant-ola – you name it – combined. Oh, like not that I
care. I’m not prejudiced, it’s just that there’s a lot of people out there I
don’t like on impulse.
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In fact, that’s the whole point of cosmetology, if you ask me, is
that we don’t judge people by their appearance. Because with the
proper make-up, no one will ever know how ugly we are underneath.
Duh! Mystery of womanhood solved-easy.
Anyway, faces turned red as Ms. Humongo stood up.
(as fat woman) “I belong to a nudist colony, and I was wondering
if there was a method of integrating a natural looking cosmetic
application into the completely naked human form.”
And I just couldn’t hold back any longer. “No wonder you’re in a
nudist colony. You probably can’t find any clothes that fit.”
Well, as you can guess, Miss Donna Ladonna Prima Donna
Elvira M. Jones was, as they say in Spanish, muy escandalizado. I think
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that’s what they say. I kinda flunked Spanish. Oh, easy for you to say – I
don’t know how those people understand themselves talk.
Anyway, she tells me (as if this weren’t true) I had to learn
tolerance for people who were different than myself, and I’m like, “No,
Miss Jones, they need to learn to change for me!” and you know what
she made me do, that Donna Ladonna Prima Donna Estee Lauder
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Bought It On Sale At Seven Eleven Elvira M. Jones?
She made my class project putting make-up on the nudist colony
woman, who spent the entire time trying to get me to spend the
weekend with her and her family at this disgusting beach about eighteen
miles south of Los Angeles. As if L.A. isn’t polluted enough already! And
I said, “If this is what it’s like, I’d rather join a leper colony.” Sorry, but for
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me, naked is not natural.
So I spent two hours on her. Two hours I could have been
looking at myself in a mirror, but no, I spent two hours making her look
beautiful. Well, it could have been worse. I mean, Victoria – she needed
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a week! And Laurie, well she just needed euthanasia. Well, either that
or plaster. I’m sorry, but ow! Oh, and roots!
So I spent my two hours and yes, she was beautiful. I made her
look like Cleopatra. I wanted to say Cleo-fat-ra, but (we all know better
by how SHE says it) I’m learning to respect people who are different
from myself. Or as I prefer to call it-different from the norm.
And you know what she says? After being the exclusive
beneficiary of my hard work and expertise? Do you? (waits a couple
beats)
This horrified look comes over her formerly horrible face. (as fat
woman) “Oh my gosh, I look like Catwoman!”
And I said, “You should be glad you look like Catwoman. After all,
Michelle Pfeiffer looked like Catwoman, and if I can make you look like
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Michelle Pfeiffer, you should thank your lucky stars!”
(as fat woman, stopping the action) “No, I look like
Catwoman!”
So I’m like, “Really? It’s more like Fatwoman.”
And wouldn’t you know Miss Donna Ladonna Prima Donna Elvira
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M. Jones breaks in. (as Elvira) “You don’t seem to understand that
every woman demands her own cosmetic style and needs to discover
her own personal method of looking and feeling beautiful.”
And I said, “These warthogs better feel beautiful because they
look like cows out to pasture. Like old goats at the children’s zoo. Like
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ears of corn in a production of Oklahoma! Like wilted lettuce at a WalMart Superstore.”
(as Elvira) “Okay, okay, I think your method of feeling beautiful
seems to come at the expense of making others feel like farm animals!
Shame, shame on you young lady.”
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Well, Miss Donna Ladonna Elvira M. Jones was behaving as if
she had lost yet another episode of The Dating Game and like she was
going to have to spend the rest of her life as Bachelorette Number 14.
And apparently she was no longer impressed with my extensive
repertoire of knowledge and expertise. Apparently she felt insecure
trying to teach people when there was a real pro in the class.
And I said, “Miss Jones, you are trying to squeeze blood out of a
roomful of turnips. And no matter how much blood you squeeze, no
matter if it comes out type A, B, AB, or O - no matter if it’s positive or
negative - and no matter whether or not it has the Rh factor or even a
high t-cell count - after all that, Miss Jones, it is still a turnip! And no
matter how much blood you squeeze, a turnip is still bitter, bitter, ugly,
oh!-and a very nauseating shade of purple.”
So when my mother asked me what I learned – and why I had to
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spend the last two days of the seminar in intensive care – I had to tell
her the truth, which is to never ever ever walk into a group of insecure
old women at a cosmetology seminar and tell them they look like a
roomful of turnips. Especially when you look like Michelle Pfeiffer.
And my mother said, (as mother) “I don’t think you learned one
single thing, because you still look like Catwoman.”
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And I said, “Mom, that’s your fault. After all, I’m wearing your
make-up.”
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END OF PLAY
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