How cool, Teen Trend Magazine is giving away five copies of Beauty Shop for Rent! For details, check out this link:
Speaking of contests . . . the next drawing to win a galley copy of BSfR will be on April 6th. You can go here for contest details on how to send me your entries.
Speaking of entries . . . here’s a great one, courtesy of Julie Prince. Enjoy!
Once upon a time, I had a crush on my hairdresser. He was very handsome and had an accent that turned me to mush whenever I heard it. He ran his fingers through my long brown hair and crooned to me about how he loved my silken tresses. Ramon whispered that he wanted to give me highlights. He insisted that a little ‘kiss of gold’ would make me sparkle and shimmer. I relented mindlessly. The highlights were a success. They indeed sparkled. They shimmered.
At my next appointment, scheduled suspiciously soon after the first, Ramon was certain that a trim was in order. Just a little something to make my layers bounce. It couldn’t hurt to add his new ‘star shine’ combo highlights to my existing ‘kiss of gold.’ They would allow for great contrast. I nearly blacked out when Ramon suggested that I was a goddess and deserved to look like one. I stifled a gratified giggle when I looked at the finished product in the mirror. Ramon smiled proudly.
A few weeks later, it was time for another bounce inducing ‘trim’ of about five inches, and this time I would be the sole recipient of Ramon’s brand new invention, ‘lush lavender.’ That’s right. Lavender…as in light purple. But…how could I turn down this artist? Who wouldn’t want to be the canvas on which he created a one of a kind masterpiece? I was honored.
Teenagers stifled THEIR giggles as I left the crowded mall where the salon was situated. I ignored them. What did they know about art anyway?
When I arrived for my next appointment, Ramon was absent from his usual station. Gone was the photo montage of friendly faces from his mirror. In its place was a magazine cut out of a chimp with an afro proclaiming, “if your hair isn’t becoming to you, you should be coming to me!”
As I plopped into the swiveling chair, I didn’t bother to hide my confusion from the goth girl who wrapped me into a purple tarp, not unlike my own lavender locks in its hue. Where was Ramon, I wondered aloud.
“Oh, that Latino guy? He and his boyfriend moved upstate a week ago. Thank heavens! He was a horrible stylist. The owner was trying to get rid of him for months, but his clients were so loyal, it was a challenge. Oh, Hon! What happened to your hair? Did you go and get one of those home kits? Good Lord! Why, it’s just a regular train wreck, isn’t it? It’ll take a while for this mess to grow out, but I think we can salvage the color with a few of my specialty rinses…”
Julie, sweetheart, I’m not going to say a thing about you being wooed into lavender highlights. I once bought a car–and a gym membership that went unused–by guys who used the very same technique. At least yours was a lot cheaper!
Thanks for sharing!