I'd begun to think perhaps I'd only imagined her, I hadn't seen her in weeks. Roz. Or rather "Wild Roz"... that's what it says on the vanity plates on her late model Vette - WLD ROZ. She's been elusive, the neighborhood sasquatch. I saw her twice in the first weeks we'd lived here, tooling around the neighborhood. But then since then, nothing. Until this morning.
I like Wild Roz. She's a magical glimpse into the past. 1985, to be specific. You can tell by the hair, bleached blonde and teased up like a standard poodle. She looks like Joan Cusack in "Working Girl". And the clothes. The first time I saw her, and then again today, she had shoulder pads on the size of an aircraft carrier. The second time I saw her it was a red "Thriller" leather jacket, although I'm guessing it was probably pleather. She's gotta be in her mid 50's, but I get the impression in Wild Roz's world, it's always Morning In America and We Are The World. She looks to be a former all-access kinda gal, a groupie. I can easily see her lolling about backstage at a Bon Jovi concert. Or more likely, Poison.
But what tips Wild Roz from being "mildly interesting" into the "fascinating" column is her doppleganger - we'll call her "Lil Roz". Perched on the edge of her dashboard, staring back at her, is a doll. Could be a Barbie, although it looked to be a little too plus -sized for that. A doll clutching a guitar.
Rock on Lil Roz.
Every time I've seen them, Lil Roz is decked out in exactly the same outfit as Wild Roz. Twins. They must dress each other every morning. Creepy, yes. But also kind of oddly sweet. I think Wild Roz's world is probably blissfully happy.
In fact the only thing that probably pisses Wild Roz off is the fact that someone else in California got the WILD ROZ plates first.
