Bulifant-a-like

I just got back from a harrowing trip to Walmart, in December. I do not recommend it.

Tomorrow is our annual faculty Christmas "party," and I had to buy a gift. Traditionally, to aid the "festivities," we draw Kris Kringle names and exchange gifts. You pray to get a middle aged maternal woman as your Kris Kringle,
and someone who's put his or her gift wish on the list as yours.
That's pretty much the jackpot in this little game of Russian roulette.

I was called into the office a few days ago with the ominous "There's a message in the office for you." For a split second, I was paralyzed by fear. I was sure my mother had died and the coroner was calling to retrieve the body.

No, but it was almost as bad.

I got there to find the school secretary beaming at me, "You forgot to pick a name," she giggled. "Tsk. I already put your name in, because I knew you'd want to participate."
I smiled and groaned inwardly (I'm good at that).

So I drew a name, opened it up. The confusion on my face must have been obvious. I held it up to her. It took her a few minutes to figure out who it was. "Oh, yes, she's one of the kindergarten aides. You know, the blonde lady."

I thought.

And then it dawned on me. It was none other than the Joyce Bulifant-a-like!

Thankfully I didn't blurt that aloud, but I came dangerously close.
I knew immediately who she was then. That's how I refered to her in my mind.

I mean really, when you see a pristine Joyce Bulifant in the wild....in 2007(!) you remember it.
Or at least I do.





Unfortunately, she didn't give me a clue as to what she might want, so it was up to me to figure out what a woman about whom I know but two things---her perky blonde do c.1974 and a really thick New Orleans accent.

What does one buy for such an exotic creature? A blowdryer? The Match Game Boxed Set?
I decided to play it safe with a Walmart gift certificate. I can't wait to see the look on her hair when she gets it.