The Hairdresser Diaries (3 page)

The rest of the work week went by pretty fast. It was already Thursday night and I was done with work. I headed out a little early; I had to go my brother’s to drop off some products I got for him.

It was pretty foggy on the way to his house; he lived back towards the mountains and I hated driving to his house at night.

Especially on a night like tonight when the road was hardly visible. But I didn’t speed, I was in no rush.

One of my favorite songs came on the radio so I turned up the volume. I was singing so loudly to myself that I didn’t even see it, it came out of nowhere. I swerved to keep from hitting it and the next thing I knew I was up against a tree. I don’t really remember much after that. I still don’t know if I hit the deer or not. All I remember was coming in and out of consciousness, hearing sirens, and seeing flashing lights.

I heard my brother screaming and someone asking me if I knew my name. Everything happened so fast I hardly had time to comprehend anything.

Once I was in the ambulance they gave me something to relax. My brother rode along in the ambulance with me.

“Tay, Tay, can you hear me?” I heard him say.

“God Ty, yes, shut up you’re giving me a headache.” He just laughed at me and told the E.M.T. I was fine. Which I agreed to and tried to argue that I could just go home, but he insisted I go to the hospital to get checked out. I know there was no way of getting out of it so I just went along for the ride.

On the way to the hospital, I started feeling sleepy. I figured it was the meds they gave me, so I didn’t fight it. I closed my eyes and let the wonders of modern medicine take me to a blissful state of unconsciousness.

Bad Habits are like a comfortable bed, easy to get into, but hard to get out of.

-Unknown

When I opened my eyes, I noticed I was back in my bedroom. I looked at the clock and it was 11:00 a.m. I picked up my phone and the date said it was Friday, July 17. I looked down and I was wearing the same clothes I had on yesterday. Then I remembered the accident. That would probably explain my headache and, oh god, my car. I picked up my phone to call Tyler.

“How bad is it?” I asked him in a panic.

“How bad is what?”

“My car,” I said impatiently.

“Tatum, what are you talking about?” he sounded genuinely confused.

“I hit a tree on the way to your house last night.”

“You did? That sucks, how bad?”

“Tyler, you were there.”

“No I wasn’t.”

Now I was confused. My brother wouldn’t joke with me about something like this. “Wait, hold a sec,” I told him and went outside to check my car. Nothing, not one single scratch, and his products were still in the front seat.

Relieved and a little puzzled I got back on the phone, “Huh, sorry it must have been a dream,” I said even though I could have sworn it was real.

“Dude, Tay, stop smoking crack and you won’t have crazyass dreams.”

I rolled my eyes at him even though he couldn’t see me do it. “Shut up Tyler.”

“Where’s my stuff?” he asked.

“I have it, I’ll leave it on the kitchen table and you can get it whenever.”

“Alright see ya.”

“Bye.”

“Hey Tay,” Tyler said before I hung up.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry about the dream. I’m sure it was nothing.”

“Thanks Ty.” I hung up the phone and went back into the house. I still couldn’t shake the weird feeling of this dream though.

Eventually I let it go. It wasn’t the first time I had a weird dream that freaked me out and it turned out to be nothing. I figured this one would end up being the same, just another bad dream.

By the time I got to work the dream was forgotten and I was feeling better. “You ready for tonight?” Peyton asked as I walked into the salon.

“Yes I am.” And I was. I needed a night out.

“Who all is coming out?” she asked.

I had to think about it for a second. “Nate and Kelly, of course, Jessie and maybe Alex, I’m not sure who else you’ll have to ask Nate.”

“You still are driving right?”

“Yes,” I told her on my way to check my schedule. I had a busy night tonight which was good. My first client was another one of my regulars, Janelle. I started doing her hair about a year ago and kind of became friends in the process.

“Yo girl what’s up?” Janelle said walking to my chair.

“Not much, what we doin?” I replied.

“The usual.”

“Alright c’mon let’s go wash your stinkyass hair.” I made a playful face.

She shrugged. “It is pretty stinky. I haven’t washed it in a week.”

She wasn’t kidding. She came in almost every Friday to get her hair done to go out and hardly ever washed it at home.

“Gross Janelle, gross.”

“Don’t they say it’s better to not wash your hair every day?”

I had to try to correct that. “Yes wash it every other day, not once a week. That’s how you get bugs.”

“Really?” No, but I wasn’t going to tell her that in hopes she’d start washing her hair more than once a week. I had to shampoo her hair three times for it to actually smell fresh and look like it was washed. I wished I had a mask.

After I was done washing the stink out of her hair, I took her back to my chair and blow-dried it straight and wrapped it in pin curls.

Janelle was at the salon so much she knew all the stylists. My boss didn’t care that she came out back with us so I told her I was going to sneak out if she wanted to join me. She followed me out and sat out back shooting the shit with Peyton and Jenna. After we finished our cigarettes we headed back in and I let out Janelle’s curl. I formed them into a nice wave and gave her lots of volume.

The rest of my clients were new ones, so each one took a little more time than normal. Once I was done for the night I was so happy. Peyton and I were the last ones to finish. We told Teresa we would close everything up. After closing the salon and locking up I told Peyton I’d call her when I was ready to go out.

It was just like any other Friday night. The weather was warm and humid. I made sure to dress cool and comfortable for tonight.

Well, as cool and comfortable as I could be on a sticky night like tonight. I wore my cute, white shorts and my new plaid button down tube top. I loved the colors: blues, greens, and grays. It really showed off my eyes, which are hazel. Plus I found the perfect pair of wedges that were the same material and colors as my shirt—thank you Payless.

I was feeling great about my choice of outfit and it put me in a good mood. I wore my hair down even though I knew I would regret it later, but I felt I looked best with it down and straight. I didn’t even bother to flat iron it. There was no point. Within ten minutes in the humidity and hot bar, my hair would start to curl. I didn’t mind if it did because it would just give it a soft wave as opposed to if I flat ironed it, which would just make it frizzy like I needed a conditioning treatment.

All dressed up and ready to go, I did my finishing touches by adding my jewelry and spraying on my favorite perfume that never fails. Every time someone hugs me they tell me how good I smell, which is a major turn on and it’s good to know I don’t stink. I sent Peyton a text to let her know I was on my way to her house to pick her up.

I grabbed my purse and checked to make sure I had everything. Even though I always did because I never moved anything, I still had to check: ID, check; money, check; camera, check; cigs, check; keys and phone, check; okay I’m ready.

I walked out of the house and hopped in my car, blasted the AC, cranked up the tunes, and was on my way.

I was glad it was dark outside, because when I’m in my car I sing loud and out of tune. I can’t sing to save my life. I thought because it was dark out people couldn’t see me. Let’s just say I’d like to believe they couldn’t. I usually don’t get embarrassed easily, but one time in the middle of the day, I was really into the song playing on the radio. I was belting it out like I was Kelly Clarkson. I pulled into the parking lot of the local Quick Shoppe. In the middle of my big note I turned to the right to see a guy sitting in his car staring at me with my mouth wide open. He chuckled to himself, realizing that he caught me in my not so subtle attempt to carry a tune. Good thing my windows were closed or I would have truly embarrassed myself. So now I only try to pretend to sing as good as the artist at night or when there’s no one else around.

I got to Peyton’s house and text her to let her know I was outside waiting. She sent me a text back letting me know she’d be right out. Two minutes later she opened the car door and hopped in.

“Hey girl,” I looked over and—“What the hell bitch,” I said.

She turned to look at me. “Ah crap.”

For some reason, I don’t know why, Peyton and I always end up dressing the same. Normally we would ask what the other was wearing, but it never was a detailed description. The conversation normally went like this:

“So what you wearing?”

“I don’t know. Shorts and a shirt, hair down.”

“Maybe I’ll wear a dress.”

“Sounds good, alright, bye.”

“Bye.”

Then as most girls do, we change our minds at least five times about our outfits. This is how we end up dressing alike. We did think a lot alike which would also explain the similar outfits.

“I’m not changing,” Peyton said. She had on a blue tube top, white shorts and blue wedges.

“Whatever, why do you always gotta copy me,” I said.

“Please chick, you copied me.”

“Um, hello, this is the new shirt I bought that I showed you on Monday.” I motioned to my outfit as though it should be obvious that she had seen it before.

“Oh yeah, cute, can I borrow it?”

“You can borrow it when you stop copying me.”

Peyton just laughed and said, “okay” in a sarcastic tone.

We got to the bar early enough so we didn’t have to park far. Normally we’d hit this particular bar at the end of the night because it got too crowded and we had to be a little tipsy to handle some of the obnoxious girls and ridiculous crowd that came here. We would normally start off at our little hole-in-the-wall corner bar. The drinks were cheaper and we knew the bartenders. But tonight was Nate’s birthday; we had to be here early.

Peyton had started drinking at her house to help her feel more at ease. I couldn’t, I was driving. I decided to have a few just to be able to bear being here the whole night. If I ended up having too much I knew a few of the bouncers who would gladly give us a ride home but I was going to try to be good.

We walked into the club. No need to show our ID’s, they knew us, we were regulars. We headed straight for the bar.

“Hey, where’s everyone else?” Peyton asked.

“They should be here soon, or are already here, somewhere. Maybe they’re on the patio.”

“You wanna look?” she said as she craned her neck in that direction.

“Nah, let’s just sit here a little bit and have a few. I’m pretty sure they’ll show up.”

It was a rarity to get a seat at the bar, so I wanted to take advantage. We sat down and ordered our drinks and already Peyton was ordering shots. I could see it was going to be one of those nights.

Within five minutes Peyton was scoping out every single guy in the place. We normally didn’t agree on guys. I was glad, because let’s face it, it was too much effort to compete with her. She was beautiful, outgoing, and yes kind of slutty, but I’d never tell her that.

“Hey, don’t look now, but check out the major ill across the bar,” Peyton said. By ‘ill’ she was using our code word for hot guy.

We came up with it a few summers ago when Peyton met my brother. She wouldn’t stop telling me how hot he was. I just kept replying by saying “ill, stop it!” So she said that’s what we’re going to call hot guys now, ‘ills’, and it stuck.

To be somewhat not obvious, I took a sip of my beer and when I put it down I took a quick glance. Hmm, he was cute, but it didn’t matter. Peyton was probably already licking her lips and making sexual innuendos with the cherry in her drink to get his attention.

“So what do you think?” she asked.

“He’s not bad, but you can have him.” I lied. Even though I thought he was good looking, I don’t want him to be just another one of Peyton’s victims. If I let her have him, she wouldn’t bother. If there was no competition, it wasn’t worth it to her. Peyton knew she was beautiful, but deep down she was insecure and she hid it well. She needed that competitiveness, it made her feel better.

“I don’t think he’s looking at me,” she said.

“How can you tell who he’s looking at? We’re sitting right next to each other, retard.” I rolled my eyes at her and caught a quick glimpse of him staring in our direction.

“You should go talk to him,” Peyton said.

“No thanks, I’m good, but I do have to tinkle, I’ll be back.”

“Already? If you go now you’ll never stop. It’s too early to break the seal.”

“Sorry I gotta go.”

“Have one more quick shot,” she pleaded. I took the shot being grateful I had off tomorrow and made my way to the bathroom. It was still early so no lines in the ladies room, thankfully. Nothing is worse than having to pee really badly when there are a bunch of drunken girls in front of you in line. Usually they’re too drunk to figure out how the buttons and zippers on their pants work. Have you ever seen a drunk girl try to use a zipper or a button? It’s like a stroke victim learning to use utensils again.