BEAUTY SHOP TALK

by

Vicki Charmaine Bunch

Haven't I kept myself up? (Unlike some women in this town who don't even bother to roll their hair.) And what do I get in return?

Not a damn thing, pardon my French.

I rue the night I met Sonny at the Eagle Drive-In. I can't remember the last time he paid me a complement, let alone gave me a decent present. For Christmas he had my iron fixed.

Romance has withered like a piece of wilted lettuce on the floor at Thrifty Mart.

What happened to the fellow everybody in Axel used to call the white James Brown? Friday night Lion's Club dances climaxed with Sonny spinning around in the middle of a soul circle, flinging sweat in every direction.

He probably would fall down if he tried to spin now.

I'm a sitting duck for an illicit love affair. And opportunity knocked last weekend.

You would have thought Fabio had come to town.

Lester Peterson was at Goat Head Mall promoting his new book, Get a Grip on Your Style. Anybody who bought one could get a free color analysis or make-over.

Even though I was skeptical, I decided I might as well go since Axel was practically a ghost town with everybody at the shopping center.

I'll admit he did take my breath away--movie-star handsome with gold chains and a blow-dried pompadour. At least I didn't make a fool of myself like May Belle Cox who fainted on the card table, damaging about fifty dollars worth of Mysterious Lady products.

I already knew I was a Summer from the class I took at the community college, and that someone of my stature shouldn't wear horizontal stripes. Lester made only one suggestion about my appearance--to quit plucking my eyebrows so severely. But sometimes I just get carried away (like when Jasper bites his paw).

I learned the difference a little dab of Pearl Mystique on your forehead could make. I bought several cases, thinking it would be a nice touch for my shampoo-set customers who have been locked into the same old look for the past fifteen years.

I got so wrapped up in Lester's informative lecture, I hardly noticed when Earlene Whitehead sat down on the folding chair beside me.

"Sonny came into the Donut Den looking for you and he was fit to be tied. Said he'd been hunting you for forty-five minutes."

What is it now, I wondered. Ever since Sonny fell off the lawn mower he's been so demanding.

"I've been all over looking for you," he said, after I hurried home. "I think I've strained my back."

Looking at Sonny so close to the time I'd seen Lester, I was struck by the contrast.

"Does it seem like I'm leaning to the side?" he asked pitifully.

It's no telling what I was missing back at the shopping center. Other women were getting the tips that I of all people needed as a beautician.

And it was Sonny's fault.

"I can't believe you brought me home cause of this." Driving off, I could see him in the rear view mirror, leaning.

Back at Goat Head Plaza, Juanita Stallings had Lester cornered against the Ear-Pierce Hut, flirting her head off. She was wearing white high heels with black panty hose, making Axel look like a fashion backwater.

"Pardon me, Juanita," I said. "I need to ask Mr. Peterson a professional question."

When he looked at me, I felt like I'd gotten a hormone shot. My juices started pumping and surging. I had discovered the fountain of youth and Lester Peterson was it.

I couldn't remember my question (which now, as I recall, had to do with does he prefer a woman with a large bust, but not just because I'm a full-figured gal).

He kept waiting for me to speak and then in the most gallant gesture, he smiled and offered me a free card with Mysterious Lady perfume sprayed on it. For a minute I was paralyzed under his laser beam stare. Finally I had to break away before I, like May Belle Cox, fainted in front of everybody.

Sonny, you idiot, I thought, driving back to the beauty shop. This is your fault. I've fallen head over heels for Lester Peterson cause you take me for granted.

When I got home that night there was a bottle of Miller High Life sitting on the side of the bathtub waiting for me, with wildflowers and grass clippings floating in the water. Then Sonny showed up in his Valentine underwear.

"You've been watching Oprah again, you devil," I said. Then I remembered what had attracted me to the godfather of Axel soul in the first place.

Thank God for Oprah. Without her, there'd be one more fallen woman.