And she falters

I'm helping out with a fundraiser at Bryce's school, by procuring silent auction donations. So far I've contacted about 50 businesses (via email, phone, and in person with my cute kids--it helped that that was the day Bryce had on his swanky dress uniform oxford and tie).

Only once, have I balked at this task. It was on my first day--when I still felt all perky and was channeling Mary Hart. I dialed my hair dresser.
Here's how the conversation went:

ring ring ring
Her: A Heavenly Salon. This is Sandy.
Me: Hi Sandy! This is Lauren McMurray. How are you?
Her: Good! How you doing girl?
Me: Great! I was calling . . . .
[here's my cue! talk about Bryce's school! remember she thinks your kids are cute!]
. . . um, I was calling . . . um, do you remember . . . well, I uh . . . I was calling to schedule a haircut.
Her: Okay! That's great! How about tomorrow at 4pm?
Me: Sure! See you then!
[console myself: "It will better to ask in person anyways"]

Tomorrow came and went: I forgot. I stood her up. Now I think I need a new hairdresser. Phil thinks I can still call and explain everything. Aaaghh. Maybe I'll buy a flurbee.