Stunned

     Lust has once again transformed an animal into a beast. This time, the beast is Kym.  Kym decided that we needed to visit a salon.

     This was the first warning sign for me.  Kym’s hair tends to take care of itself. Kym is a relentless stream of pants suits and bad hair.  She prefers it that way. I have personally witnessed Kym washing her hair in dish washing liquid, anti-bacterial handsoap and once, mistakenly, drunkenly, Yahtzee’s hemorrhoid cream. She’s lucky to have hair. She celebrates this fact by not combing it. “It’s the wild woman look.” She says.

     “Yes,” I agree.  “So is shitting yourself.”

I visit Salons, but only to mock people and buy shampoo. Eric does all my hair care.  Lately, with our new therapy induced lifestyle, I admitted that perhaps I could use a Salon’s touch.

     Needless to say, we were not in Salon territory.  We were in Cut N’ Curl country.  Jenny’s Cut N’Curl.

     Jenny’s hair matched shag carpet from the 70’s. On the end of her dimpled arms she clumsily wielded impossibly long Lee Press- On Nails, painted to match the ‘Merican Flag.  She was barely able to handle a cigarette with one hand and a spray can of something flammable in the other, ironically called Aqua Net.  The very same thing they used to hunt whales in Japan!

     There were 3 chairs. The first was occupied by a very old woman who was having her 36 remaining long white hairs permed. The second chair had a poodle getting it's wiry white coat blow dried.

     The third chair soon held Kym.

     “Come, Katy! Get a new look with me! It will be fun!”

New look…I shuddered, looking around. I could smell poodle hair burning.

Anything Kym has ever said with an exclamation point attached has only come back to jab me in ass.

     ‘Roxanne’ said the manicurist’s smock. She, too, sported extremely unlikely talons painted in an unnatural hue.  Happily, they weren’t theme nails. Or maybe they were; her enormous wad of chewing gum was the exact color.  She looked at me out of narrowed blue hinged eyes as I sat in a waiting chair near her station.

      “You gonna let me do you?” she asked, exhaling her cigarette smoke thoughtfully over my head. “I only got Mitzy ahead of you, but that shouldn’t take too long,” she gestured to the poodle, who was just jumping down from stylist’s chair.

     I’m going to assume that her offer to ‘do’ me, and after a dog, was in reference to a manicure, although, lately, I couldn’t be sure. 

     “My nails?” I asked.

     “Uhhhh.Yeah!” she answered rolling her eyes at me. Taking a white curly paw in hand and she scolded,

     “You’ve been digging, Mitzy!”

I decided to catch up on my reading magazines from the 1980s instead.

     Kym's New Look smacked me back to present.  Softly now, because you can only whisper this sort of horror:

     She was being attacked.  Normally something would have to be drawn to look so farcical, by a team of skilled, self-medicated cartoonists. Puffed up like a hair infection, oozing with bad color, it was like each and every strand was waging a personal war on her head. 

     And the worst part of all was that she had done this in a bid to get GOOD ATTENTION.

     "We must go home at once," I declared upon seeing her wearing a goofy grin and holding a bag of insidious products designed to nurture this sort of hair hostility. Gels, foams, oils...each more flammable and hideous than the last.

     "What? Do you like my hair?" She gingerly touched the orange and yellow-hued ordeal.  She smiled unaware of what was really going on at scalp level.

     "Oh yes. I do like that hair," I appeased her. "You are stunning!" I added.

Which is true. Stunning was certainly one good word for it.

Comments

[Hemorrhoids Treatment]

"mistakenly, drunkenly, Yahtzee’s hemorrhoid cream."

Ewwwww... what's the taste?

Is she okay after drinking it?