Chanel slap

There is a time in life when one simply must speak up. Well that is exactly what I did but what I have to say is not always well received and honesty sometimes hurts, especially when talking to a parent. You see, I am a well mannered, easy going person but when you push I shove and when my chance at celebrity status is at risk things get ugly.  Nasty Aussie rapper and most-influential-being-in-my-life-this-week Iggy Azalea said it best "If I have to tell you one more time I blow like a bomb, like a horn, like a bitch behind a bungalow at prom".

When I was around 11 years old I had an appetite for ripped jeans, crocheded vests, high tops and Madonna. I had just found out that she was on tour and my dream of becoming a real life groupie became an obsession. If I could somehow get to the concert I would show Madonna why I would make the best groupie/assistant/back-up dancer/back vocals that she had ever encountered and thus fulfilling my worldwide stardom fantasy. With Madonna having done all the leg work and the bed hopping all I had to do was be part of her posse and I would immediately be famous. 

Lucky for me my aunt Veronica was equally obsessed and she somehow scored tickets to the concert. I think she had to sing a snippet of "Like a Virgin" while simultaneously farting into the phone for a radio contest, or so she told me. She was in her early 20's, had big hair and a shared passion for ripped clothing and leather bracelets. Most importantly, she had my ticket to word domination and flashing lights. We used to hang out a lot on the weekends and she asked if I wanted to go to the concert with her. I immediately said yes!

That evening my mother was getting ready for an evening out with Roberto. Roberto was a well known corrupt lawyer and part time photographer whom once pulled strings to get me to the Formula One races which I watched from the "pits" while sipping on Fanta as he and my mother held hands as if posing for Page Six.  My mother was putting on her earrings when I went into her room to ask her about the Madonna concert. "Mom! Veronica has tickets to the concert and the rest of my future, can I go?" She flatly said no. I flatly called her a bitch.

She slowly put her gold patent leather Chanel clutch down on the dresser as to not get it dirty before slapping me across the face. "Never talk to me like that again" she said calmly. I was shocked! The woman with the gold Chanel just slapped me! I looked at her and apologized. After that night my mother and I made an agreement, I would never disrespect her and she would never slap me. Sounded like a fair deal to me.

I never did go to the concert but the Chanel slap incident did bring us closer together because there was always respect and honesty. That is the thing about making deals, they are in a way promises and breaking them will only make one look dishonest, disrespectful and mostly unglamorous, and that to me is dreadful. I'm not sure what happened to the gold Chanel, and as for the ripped jeans, they were thrown out one day while I was at school. I cried, listened to lots of Guns n' Roses and was over it by the weekend. I've yet to achieve superstardom, but I will be seeing Madonna this fall. Here's hoping!