BEAUTY SHOP TALK

by

Vicki Charmaine Bunch

I get all teary eyed whenever I think about the generosity of people in this town. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for contributing to my liposuction fund. As soon as Dr. Jones gives the go-ahead, those collection jars will be full of something besides spare change. Then, watch out Frederick's of Hollywood!

That's the way small towns are. You can count on the community to support you in your hour of need. Through tornadoes, asteroid showers, and fire ant attacks--your neighbors will dig you out and help you get back on your feet.

I should know.

Two years ago I was belly dancing on stage at Summer Fest when all hell broke loose in the worst hail storm this area has ever seen. It was every man for himself. People tried to shield vital organs with turkey legs and funnel cakes, to no avail.

I was one of the lucky ones--dragged into a Port-a-Potty by a good Samaritan I'd never met, a CPA named Arnold Strickner who had been volunteering at a beer stand. It was a tight squeeze, and Arnold and I quickly became acquainted, screaming our heads off until we were rescued by soldiers from the national guard armory.

It took over an hour to round up my car pool. I hardly recognized my fellow dancers, transformed as they were from gorgeous Hootenanny Harem Girls to scuzzy wet hussies by an act of God. Their hair pieces were lopsided. Their eye liner was smeared. Their belly dancer outfits, soaked through, left way too little to the imagination.

I headed for the freeway in a frenzy, my poor station wagon battered by chunks of ice. The windshield shattered and I ran over curbs and smashed into other cars. What difference did it make? It was the end of the world. Any minute I expected to vacate the vehicle anyway, to be "taken up."

I was just wondering what would happen to my passengers when an eight pound hail stone came through the roof of the car, striking Nadine Pennyback in the head. You probably read about it in the Axel Rattler. We were even on the channel five news with Nadine all bloody and me in my aqua harem girl costume.

The reporter said, "This must have been a terrible ordeal for you, Mrs. Bunch. When is your baby due?"

Of course I wasn't pregnant. The reporter looked confused and they cut away. The feedback I got after my fifteen seconds of fame was not that good. Ever since then it has been my dream to get liposuction.

Anyway I dropped Nadine off, and when I got home every window was busted out. There was glass strewn from one side of the house to the other, and rain pouring through holes in the roof.

I was rooting around in the mess for my black stretch pants when Sonny showed up with five mounted deputies who were looking for the injured. I assured them I was okay and Sonny and I shared a frozen tamale entree and fell asleep in front of the TV. When I woke up about midnight and looked in the drier, my harem outfit was small enough to fit a Barbie doll.

I don't know how long I'll have to wait to resume dancing after my lipo. But I'll be belly rolling better than ever, I guarantee. See you at Summer Fest. (I'll be the one who doesn't look pregnant.)