This particular girl was named Lisa and I would have walked through fire to be with her (although, that would probably have been a short walk with a lot of fire considering how much product was in my hair). Anyway, my friend Matt and I were sitting around Lisa's house with our other friend Lisa (you seeing a pattern here?) on Halloween and the girls thought it would be fun to empty the contents of their make up bags onto our faces. At this point, I believed that this was a good idea, mainly because I thought it would probably be the most intimate thing that would ever happen between Lisa and myself. My teenage brain probably also believed that putting make up on me would act as a gateway drug for Lisa, making her realize just how much she needed to be with me. Yep, pathetic. And yep, that never happened.
But none of that is really the story. The night didn't really get exciting until the girls sent us to 7-11 to purchase refreshments and we ran into a group of highway workers who were freshly off the clock. Let me just say, that it was a lucky thing that we were two big boys and also that we could run fast. These guys looked and sounded like they would have enjoyed beating us up immensely.
We escaped with our lives (barely) but, suffice to say, with the exception of my Viking rock band, I have not worn make up in public since, nor have I been involved with anyone named Lisa.