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All the attention was finally getting to her and no doubt the attention was quite extensive. You see, you have no idea how hard it is to live a simple life when you are the splitting image of a rock diva, which is exactly what she is. She looks exactly like Mariah, facial features, long legs, same size dresses and clothes, eyes, smile but especially the strawberry blonde hair. That beautiful hair that falls over her shoulders and touches the middle of her back. The little lick of hair that falls over her eye and the blondish streaks that adorn her face.

And she carries the look so gracefully.

It would be really hard to tell the two of them apart from each other. The only difference is the fact that Mariah can carry a tune and she has an extensive vocal range when it comes to her singing. Plus Mariah has the millions of dollars and the millions of record sales to put behind her name.

She has nothing, just a humble job at an accounting firm which she takes a lot of personal pride in doing. But still she gets depressed because the attention never seems to go away. So I try to be as understandable as I can be when she comes home and throws her arms up in disgust.

I am sure even the real Mariah has the same problems but at least if Mariah feels pressured she has security guards and managers around her constantly and they have the right to tell fans to back off and give Mariah space or even rush her to a waiting car. But she does not have that privilege. She has to deal with people pushing in on her, wanting to touch her locks, smell the latest perfume she is wearing, ask about her clothes, and asking her for this, that and everything else.

Even when she walked downtown to go shopping, she would be stopped by so many people who actually think she is Mariah but even when she tries to explain who she is, well, it is hard to convince people. She gets stopped by teenagers who ask for her autograph, men who want to give her a peck on the cheek, others who want to talk to her about her movie credits, people who want to know when her next record will hit the stores, people who are looking for press pictures and some people who do some really rude and obnoxious, offending things. These things are very hard for her to deal with and they do have a habit of getting her down on herself.

I have seen her come home from work, totally frustrated and bummed out. ?Why can?t people just leave me alone? I never asked to look like this. I am just a simple girl who wants to live a quiet normal life,? she says. ?What is it now?? I asked her.

?A bunch of kids pelted my car with eggs and tomatoes because I would not give them autographs. When I got to the car was to get the car cleaned, all the men were glaring at me. One guy even grabbed his crotch,? she said.

?If you did not like it, you would have done something about it by now,? I said.

?And just what am I supposed to do; stop living?? she said as she threw herself down on to the couch. I knew that was impossible, to just stop living. And I trying to be understandable but only she knew how frustrating it was. She was the one with the problem.

I even offered to go with her to get a makeover but she always protested. ?Then I guess you like the attention you get. I have tried to be understanding, even offering to go with you for a makeover. But you don?t want to. I am not going to say anything anymore. You deal with it,? I finally told her out of frustration after hearing her complain for the millionth time. ?You say you want to be left alone but you bring this upon yourself. Well, so be it. Don?t cry any more rivers around me,? I finally said.

?Nice friend you are,? she said as she stormed upstairs to her room, slamming the door behind her.

I really wished she would listen. I was convinced that she would look good with shorter hair and maybe some more good quality clothes and I was willing to be there to assist her but no. She would not have it. So I backed off. Now I have a fetish for short hair. I think short hair is sexy and I have been dropping subtle hints to her to get a major change. I know it would look good on her and so do the majority of our friends but getting her to listen is like pulling teeth without Novocain. To tell you the truth, I even think she would look stunning with a smooth head, shaved to the scalp.

Finally it all came to a head. Working as an investment consultant allows me the pleasure of working at home. I was entering figures on my computer when a call came through. I looked at my display feature and noticed her cell phone number. I picked up the receiver and heard her sobbing on the other end. ?Please come and get me,? she begged.

?What is wrong?? I asked. ?And what is all that noise behind you? I can hardly hear you.? The noise sounded like a mob of people yelling.

?I just want to get out of here,? she begged. ?They won?t let me leave.?

?Who won?t let you leave? And where are you?? I asked.

?I am at La Carta. I came over to get a sandwich for lunch. They surrounded me, yelling and screaming,? she sobbed more. ?I am locked inside the washroom.?

?Who surrounded you?? I asked.

?Two bus loads of tourists. Someone must have seen me and in less then two minutes I was surrounded by a horde of crazy people,? she sobbed more. ?Listen.?

I heard in the background people yelling: ?Mariah! Mariah! Mariah!?

?Please I will do anything. I just want to get out of here. I want to come home. I want this to end,? she begged.

?I told you what to do but you refuse to listen. I don?t want anything to do with this anymore. You told me to stop interfering. You deal with it,? I said.

?Please. I was wrong. I just want to come home. The whole day has been a disaster. I even got thrown off the bus because I slapped a man in the face for squeezing my ass. I had to walk 10 blocks to get to work,? she continued to sob.

?You slapped someone on the bus?? I asked.

?Yes. He pricked my ass and then he took the liberty of squeezing my cheeks. I slapped him right across the face,? she said. ?I was wrong when I told you to ?butt out?. I should have listened.?

I finally laughed. ?If I come and get you, we do this my way. I think I have heard enough. And you will not complain about what I am going to suggest,? I said. ?Do you agree??

?Yes,? she said.

?I will be there in ten minutes. Just hang on for a bit,? I said.

I got my jacket and the keys to my car. I phoned the manager of the restaurant and asked him if he could somehow clear the people away so that I could come and get her out of the restaurant. He told me that he would unlock the delivery door and I could come and get to her through the kitchen area.

Before I went to the car, I grabbed a picture I had been playing with, a scan I had made of Mariah Carey and what she would look like as a bald chick. This was going to be an answer to a prayer for me. And she had said she would do anything. I drove to the restaurant and went to the delivery door. I honked my horn and the kitchen prep man opened the door. I entered and he directed me to a back door. I knocked on the door and she answered.

?The car is out back. Come on. We can leave now,? I said.

She followed me out and ran to the door of the car. She got in and locked the door. She had indeed been crying. Her makeup had been smudged and smeared her face.

?Can we go home, please?? she asked.

?Not yet. We have somewhere to go first. Remember what you promised,? I said. She nodded her head.

I drove the car away and we headed back toward the house. Along the way we were destined to make a stop and we did, in front of a small strip mall.

?Get out,? I said as I parked the car.

?What are we doing here?? she asked.

?Don?t ask any questions. I am tired of al the complaining. I have lost 2 hours pay coming out here to get you and now you are going to make good. Follow me or you can walk the rest of the way home and you know how busy it is around here. Imagine people seeing Mariah Carey walking down the street of their neighborhood. Lots of attention or you can go in there???????.,? I said as I pointed to a small barber shop on the corner of the strip.

?This is not fair,? she said.

?Of course not. I had to come and bail you out of trouble. It is not fair that I lose two hours pay so you owe me,? I said. ?Your choice. A haircut, my choice of style, or you walk home through the neighborhood. Look, all the kids should be coming home for lunch around now.?

She sobbed some more. ?This is getting pathetic,? I said. I grabbed her by the arm and led her to the barbershop. I pushed the door open and pulled her inside. ?The chair!? I demanded.

She walked slowly to the chair. ?Get in it,? I said as she looked at me with pleading eyes. The barber looked at me and his potential client. I looked at him. I walked forward and pulled back her hair, fluffing it with my fingers and smelling it, the sweet aroma from her shampoo earlier that morning. .

?Miss Mariah Carey has been a bad girl. She needs to be punished and she has agreed to a style of my choice. If she does not submit to my instructions I want you to run to all the stores and tell them that you have a pop diva in your store ready to receive a major haircut,? I said. I looked at her. ?Am I going to have any more trouble from you, Mariah?? She shook her head.

?I will be good,? she said. I reached into my pocket and took out the piece of paper I had. I showed it to the barber.

?Don?t show any mercy and don?t let her try and talk you out of it,? I said. He nodded his head and reached for a white cape. He threw it over her shoulders and straightened it out over her torso. She looked so sad as she tried to plead with me.

?Not a word!? I said to her. The barber reached for a pair of electric clippers. He took the guard off, oiled the teeth and flicked the switch to let the motor heat up a bit. This was going to be a major shearing and I intended to watch it all. I walked back and sat down in the waiting area.

?How do you want me to proceed?? the barber asked as he spun the chair around. She was looking right at me, obedient as I had demanded.

?I guess start at the ears, move around to the back and then do the crown. Then a hot lather shave. I think that is in order,? I said as I crossed my legs and sat back to enjoy the show. The barber placed his hand on her shoulder, tilted her head to the side and flicked the switch. I watched as the first swatch of strawberry blonde hair dropped to the cape. ?No more Mariah,? I said as he continued with the cut.

Author: hairman001 Copyright protected ? 2003 Copyright legal and registered.

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