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Authors: Dorothy Phaire
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you and picked up a magazine to skim through. Mr. Woods turned his attention to the plump woman wearing the Redskins jacket and struck up a conversation with her. Not having anything else to do but wait for Cha-Cha, Renee eavesdropped on their conversation while pretending to read the magazine. She rarely participated in conversations going on at the beauty shop. She preferred to sit quietly and remain as invisible as possible. You could learn a lot about people just by listening to them talk.
“I see you still a fan,” Mr. Woods said, pointing to the woman’s Redskins jacket.
“Yeah, we Redskins fans don’t give up. It’s not over for ‘em yet. We’re only a month into the season.”
Nadine led her customer over to a hair dryer next to the waiting area and set the timer for thirty minutes. Nadine had a pleasant face, tinted the flavor of rich cocoa and got along with everybody. She asked the Redskins’ fan to go sit in her chair while she made a quick telephone call. As soon as the Redskins’ fan left, Mr. Woods made his move on the lady in black leather.
“Who you waitin’ for, Sistuh?” he asked her and licked his dry, chapped lips.
“Takara. Looks like she’s finishing up her customer. Shouldn’t be much longer, thank God! I am beat. Worked the nightshift last night. I thought about sleeping in but I had to get my hair done.”
Both Takara and Whittni summoned their clients. The woman wearing the leather jacket jumped up when Takara called her.
“Mr. Woods, I’m ready for you,” said Whittni.
“Mr. Woods? Who the hell’s that?” He snarled at the formal name, “Baby, how many times I got to tell you to call me Al.”
He smiled at Whittni and bounced towards her chair in what he probably considered a cool, hip-hop strut. “I ain’t that old, girl. I could show you a thing or two,” he winked then squeezed himself into her chair.
Renee then sat alone. She checked the clock again. Twenty-five minutes had passed but it seemed like she had been waiting forever. At 2:30, Cha-Cha strutted through the door, head held high, and lips rigid with attitude. Only 5’4” in bare feet, the platform boots lifted her to a statuesque 5’7.” Renee was too angry to say anything to her and pretended to be absorbed in the magazine. Cha-Cha walked in like Queen Sheba, hips curvy in a pair of butt-hugging FrankieB Jeans. A leopard print nylon top peeked through her leather jacket to reveal other God-given assets. Cha-Cha sported a short, tapered Halle Berry cut that showed off high cheekbones on a golden tan complexion, arched eyebrows, dark eyes, and perfectly formed lips painted glossy berry by MAC™. She nodded a greeting at Renee but did not apologize or explain why she was so late.
“Hey girl,” she greeted the teenager at the desk in a sultry, drawling voice, “Any calls?”
“Just the usual. Mrs. Gordan wants a touch-up, color, and trim. Janice got her hair wet and needs another press-n-curl. And your cousin, Tamika wants you to squeeze her in tomorrow before 5. She said to tell you she finally got a date.”
Cha-Cha rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. “That girl’s always trying to get her hair done for free. Like I don’t have bills to pay,” she said, pointing to herself as she held a defiant stance.
Renee suppressed the urge to say out loud; You don’t act like you have bills to pay. You’re thirty minutes late for my appointment. But her anger subsided since she knew Cha-Cha would transform her into a glamorous femme-fatale and Bill wouldn’t know what hit him tonight.
“Oh yeah and a Jillian Brock left a number for you to call her,” said the young assistant as she handed Cha-Cha a slip of paper, “This lady’s desperate. Says she hasn’t been to you in ten months because she could never get an appointment. She’s been going to somebody her girlfriend recommended and they messed her hair all up. She’ll pay anything and can come any time if you’ll fix the disaster
“I see you still a fan,” Mr. Woods said, pointing to the woman’s Redskins jacket.
“Yeah, we Redskins fans don’t give up. It’s not over for ‘em yet. We’re only a month into the season.”
Nadine led her customer over to a hair dryer next to the waiting area and set the timer for thirty minutes. Nadine had a pleasant face, tinted the flavor of rich cocoa and got along with everybody. She asked the Redskins’ fan to go sit in her chair while she made a quick telephone call. As soon as the Redskins’ fan left, Mr. Woods made his move on the lady in black leather.
“Who you waitin’ for, Sistuh?” he asked her and licked his dry, chapped lips.
“Takara. Looks like she’s finishing up her customer. Shouldn’t be much longer, thank God! I am beat. Worked the nightshift last night. I thought about sleeping in but I had to get my hair done.”
Both Takara and Whittni summoned their clients. The woman wearing the leather jacket jumped up when Takara called her.
“Mr. Woods, I’m ready for you,” said Whittni.
“Mr. Woods? Who the hell’s that?” He snarled at the formal name, “Baby, how many times I got to tell you to call me Al.”
He smiled at Whittni and bounced towards her chair in what he probably considered a cool, hip-hop strut. “I ain’t that old, girl. I could show you a thing or two,” he winked then squeezed himself into her chair.
Renee then sat alone. She checked the clock again. Twenty-five minutes had passed but it seemed like she had been waiting forever. At 2:30, Cha-Cha strutted through the door, head held high, and lips rigid with attitude. Only 5’4” in bare feet, the platform boots lifted her to a statuesque 5’7.” Renee was too angry to say anything to her and pretended to be absorbed in the magazine. Cha-Cha walked in like Queen Sheba, hips curvy in a pair of butt-hugging FrankieB Jeans. A leopard print nylon top peeked through her leather jacket to reveal other God-given assets. Cha-Cha sported a short, tapered Halle Berry cut that showed off high cheekbones on a golden tan complexion, arched eyebrows, dark eyes, and perfectly formed lips painted glossy berry by MAC™. She nodded a greeting at Renee but did not apologize or explain why she was so late.
“Hey girl,” she greeted the teenager at the desk in a sultry, drawling voice, “Any calls?”
“Just the usual. Mrs. Gordan wants a touch-up, color, and trim. Janice got her hair wet and needs another press-n-curl. And your cousin, Tamika wants you to squeeze her in tomorrow before 5. She said to tell you she finally got a date.”
Cha-Cha rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. “That girl’s always trying to get her hair done for free. Like I don’t have bills to pay,” she said, pointing to herself as she held a defiant stance.
Renee suppressed the urge to say out loud; You don’t act like you have bills to pay. You’re thirty minutes late for my appointment. But her anger subsided since she knew Cha-Cha would transform her into a glamorous femme-fatale and Bill wouldn’t know what hit him tonight.
“Oh yeah and a Jillian Brock left a number for you to call her,” said the young assistant as she handed Cha-Cha a slip of paper, “This lady’s desperate. Says she hasn’t been to you in ten months because she could never get an appointment. She’s been going to somebody her girlfriend recommended and they messed her hair all up. She’ll pay anything and can come any time if you’ll fix the disaster
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