"Big Hairy Deal"
By Steven Sharp ©2003
She
glanced at the clock; in five minutes it would all be over. She shifted under the plastic sheet that hung
over her bulging chest like an oversized lobster bib. “Margo,
watch the time. I know what happens when
you leave it in too long.”
“I’m watchin’,
don’t worry about a thing. You’ll have
curls like there’s no tomorrow,” Margo Meade said, flicking ashes at the
pyramid of cigarette butts balanced atop the dingy pink ashtray on the shelf by
the mirror. “You’ll be the belle of the
ball. I mean, classy is classy,” she
said, clenching her cigarette between her teeth as she dug at her bra.
“Mind gettin’
that cigarette away from my head? I’m not up for doin’
a Michael Jackson impression today.”
Margo chuckled. “Sherry, you’re a funny lady. You worry too much, you know that? I tell
everybody a perm would suit you. Classy,
you know?”
“I’d settle for decent. Classy might be pushin’
it. I just know it’ll look like a pile
of dog logs tonight. I just know it.”
Margo cut loose with a hearty laugh,
smacking Sherry on the back with an open hand.
“Dog logs… Girl! You’re too
much.”
“Yeah, whatever. Three more minutes. I’m serious, don’t goof around and burn my
hair.”
Margo waved a dismissive hand. “Honey, I know what I’m doin’.
Just relax.”
Sherry’s gaze fell on the mirror
that reflected most of the small room.
The dull colors of the room felt lifeless even in the glare of the
mid-morning sun. A weird pointed shadow cast by the stand of dusty hair care products that
stood in the window crept across the streaky wall behind her.
“How can you stand smelling this
crap all day? It makes me feel sort of sick.”
“Hon, you get used to it after a
couple of hundred times. It’ll be worth
it. You’ll have some sweet curls, sugar.
See, I wrapped your hair in a special way I read about in Haircare Monthly and--”
“God, I hope you’re not using me for
a guinea pig.”
“Oh, it’ll be fine. Some French guy came up with a new way to do
spiral perms. It’ll look just great I tell you.” She grabbed the red hose that hung like a
snake across the sink.
Margo took a deep drag from her
cigarette and blew plumes of smoke from her nose and grinned. “I won’t burn it. It’ll be beautiful. You’ll see.”
Sherry peered at her in the mirror
as Margo’s meaty arm tossed her cigarette onto the heaping ashtray. “I don’t see how you can stand to smell this
perm solution all day. Geez, I think I’d rather be sprayed by a skunk than to
smell this stinky mess all day.”
Margo shrugged. “It’s a livin’. So, tell me about this shin dig tonight. Sounds like a big bash.”
“Kirby Vacuum Cleaner is having a banquet
tonight and
“So, there’ll be some pretty important people there, I bet,
huh? I didn’t know he sold Kirby’s. You know I still use the one my grandmother
bought when she and my granddad got married.
She said he cussed her for a week for spending twenty-five dollars on a
vacuum cleaner. He told her it’d better
be a damned good one for that kind of money.
That was in 1934.”
“Yeah, well they’re over
fifteen-hundred now. My
hair, please.”
“Okay, sweetie, I’m rinsing right
now. Mercy me! Them Kirby’s cost that much now, do they?”
“Nothing’s cheap anymore, but you
get what you pay for,” Sherry said.
“Speaking of money, I’m givin’ you a good deal on this perm. You know, some women, like that Sanders woman,
have a real mop and it takes two perms to do their hair. I get seventy dollars
for those.”
“No offense, but I don’t think
seven-hundred dollars would help that crop of hair she’s got.”
Margo flashed an evil grin. “No offense taken. Like my momma used to say, ‘you can’t make
chicken salad out of chicken crap.’ I’ll tell you one thing. If them Kirby’s cost fifteen-hundred bucks,
it better do more than clean the floor, if you know
what I mean.”
“It won’t be kinky, will it?”
“It’d have to be before I’d pay
fifteen hundred dollars for it!” Margo
cut loose with another round of laughter.
I’ve heard about these things called a Sybian
that you put on the floor and ride like there’s no tomorrow. Now I might pay a grand and half for one of
those. But not for something to clean
the rug.” Margo spun the chair around
and eased the seat back until Sherry’s neck rested against the hard, cool
U-shaped cutout in the side of the sink.
“No.
I mean my hair won’t be kinky, will it?”
Sherry asked.
“Nah. Shouldn’t be too tight. I did use sort of small rods but not the
smallest. It won’t look like an afro or
anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.
Even if it’s a little tight, it’ll loosen up in a couple of days.”
“Couple of days? I don’t have a couple of days! I need it to look good tonight.” Fire in Sherry’s strained face leered up at
Margo as the cool water cascaded over her tightly wound rods.
“Wait till you see how it turns out
before you get worked up; I ain’t done yet. How many years you been knowin’
me? Have I ever messed your hair up?”
“You’ve never messed my hair up, but
you’ve never given me a perm, either. I
just really need to look good tonight, that’s all.”
“You think I don’t know how to give
a perm? Hell, that’s mostly what I
do. You ever seen a bad perm I gave?”
Margo asked.
“I saw Lisa Neighbors a couple of
weeks ago. It ain’t worth mentioning,
but hers didn’t look very good. In fact,
the ladies down at the auxiliary sort of thought she looked like a clown.”
“Oh, that. I told that hard-headed woman not to go and
try to color it right after it was permed.”
“But she did anyway, huh? I didn’t know coloring it right after it was permed would do that.”
“Yes ma’am, it certainly will. Anyway, so what does she do? She marched
right down to the A & P and got a box of that Miss Clairol Tawny Auburn
number five and went right home to get rid of the gray. If she’s gonna act
stupid, then she’s gonna look stupid. Nothing I can do about that.”
“I don’t have any gray, do I?”
Margo shook her head. “Not so’s you could tell.
Nearly everybody older than sixteen or seventeen has one here or
there. Just don’t go trying to color it
this afternoon and I promise you won’t look like Bozo tonight.”
“Oh, well that’s very
reassuring. You really know how to give
a girl some confidence,” Sherry said with a smirk.
“I ain’t going to let you look bad
in front of all
“Hello? Yeah, speaking. Yeah.
Yeah. Sorry, can’t do nothing about that…
Well, then quit pulling on it, and go buy a wig or something.”
A flash of panic swept through
Sherry. “What the hell was that about?”
“That damned old Johnson woman… She’s
about half in the bag. She calls me damned near everyday to tell me her hair’s
falling out. She’ll be bald as a cue
ball in another year or so.”
“You’re scaring the hell out of me,
Margo. I wish you hadn’t told me that.”
“Well, she’s another one like that
Lisa Neighbors, and Adelaide Jenkins is another one. She’s hell bent on puttin’
a rinse on her hair as soon as she gets a perm.
I tell ‘em and tell ‘em,
but do they listen to me? And yet who’s
the first person they call when there’s a problem?”
“Please don’t tell me my hair could
fall out,” Sherry said.
“Nah! That almost never happens. Nothin’ to worry
about. Let me finish rinsin’ it and we’ll let it set for about five minutes and
then you can see how it looks.”
“Hope it turns out.
“You mean he don’t
know? What if he don’t
like ‘em?”
“I wanted to ask you about
that. Can you undo it?”
Margo laughed. “Why the hell do you think they call it a
permanent?”
The cool setting solution sent
chills down Sherry’s spine. “Don’t be a
smart ass. I thought you could take perm
solution and maybe straighten it back out if it looks bad.”
“Oh it’s been tried before. But you wanna talk
about makin’ your hair look like a pile of dog
logs. That’ll do it!” Margo squeezed the setting solution on a row
of curls. “Nope. I only know three ways to handle a boogered up perm and none of them’ve
got anything to do with tryin’ to straighten it.”
“What are the three things?” Sherry asked.
“Get a wig, get a hat or get a crew
cut.” She offered a wry smile but Sherry
took no solace from the options.
“Well then I hope it turns out. You got any more appointments today?”
“It’ll be fine. Nah, I don’t like to
work too much on Saturdays. Course, I
don’t mind a perm here or a trim there.
I just don’t make a habit of it.”
“How long’s
this cool stuff supposed to stay on?”
“Five minutes or so—give or take,”
Margo said, hitching the seat up and swiveling Sherry around to face the
mirror. “Going to be a big crowd there
tonight?”
Sherry glanced a the clock and
thought, once again, okay only five more
minutes and it’ll all be over. “Yeah. A couple
hundred I guess, counting wives and family members,” Sherry said.
“What all kinda
awards do they give to a vacuum cleaner salesman?”
“Lots of different
ones. Most
sales in a month, in a quarter, and in a year. Then, they’ve got awards for cost saving
suggestions, product improvement and stuff like that. Sometimes they do a little lecture on
salesmanship and new products and that sort of thing.”
“Wow, sounds like big deal. Maybe they’ll have some music and nice food
and everything, you think?”
“I’m not sure about music. The food’s usually pretty good. We’ve been to a few of ‘em
but
“At fifteen-hundred bucks a pop for
their machines, I should hope they would,” Margo said, washing her hands in the
deep sink. “I hope they give ya’ll
steaks and key lime pie.”
“Time to take it
down yet?” Sherry asked, nodding
toward the clock.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s about time. I’ll let it set for another minute to
two. If it don’t
set long enough, it won’t be worth a shit and your money’ll
be wasted. Did
“I got a really cute royal-blue
dress down at Talbots. It’s got a white, lacy neck and a tie in the
back. You’d love it.”
“Probably looks cute on you, but I’d
look like a big, fat smurf in somethin’
like that,” Margo said, running her hands along her rounded belly. “Okay, let’s take it down, rinse it off and
we’ll see how it’s gonna look.”
The thudding in Sherry’s chest increased. The afternoon rays brightened the inside of
the shop, casting a surreal and garish glow across the dirty linoleum. Margo wasted no time in raising the seat and
turning Sherry toward the mirror. Her
hands made short work of harvesting the rods and tossing them into the green
beach pail she kept on the counter beside the ashtray. Row after row of brown
curls appeared across Sherry’s head.
“Yeah. It’ll look real good. You’ll be the belle of the vacuum cleaner
ball.”
“Why do you keep calling it
that? Like it’s some
kind of joke or something. This
is very important to me and Gary and I don’t appreciate your jokes.”
“Whoa, girl! Calm down.
I’m trying to help you look prettier for your party. Going to a party sure beats eatin’ stale Cheetos and watching
Cops on TV, which is what I’ll be doing.”
Margo wheeled her around and lowered
Sherry’s cool and tingly head over the sink once more. “Ouch!
Geez that water is hot! Cool it down,” Sherry said.
“Sorry, didn’t think it was that hot. I don’t remember you bein’
tender-headed. Now that Theo Cleveland,
she’s got a touchy noggin. Lord, that woman cain’t hardly stand to have her hair brushed; I
guess that’s why it looks like such a damned rats nest all the time. Better?”
“That’s fine.” The tepid water poured over her icy scalp. “Sorry,
Margo, I’m just nervous, I guess.”
“What
were we talking about? Oh, about
“We got a trip to the
“That’s got it. We’re all
done.” Margo toweled her hair and pulled
a hair pick from a jar of blue liquid on the counter. “I think you’ll like it.” She worked the pick through the soggy curls,
back and forth, top to bottom, slinging tiny drops of water in all directions.
“Oh, Margo, I’m not sure—”
“Honey, you have to let it dry. Don’t wash it for three days, don’t blow dry
it and don’t screw with it. Just let it
dry. When it’s dry, you can curl it, use
hairspray or whatever.”
“God, I got no idea how I’ll fix it
for tonight. I just know it’ll look like
complete crap.”
“Nah. It’ll be great. You’ve got a good face for a perm. You got some people with a big, horsey face and big teeth, like Adelaide Jenkins for
instance. A perm on her is like sticking a hat on a pig; it’s just silly as
hell.”
“But you do her hair all the time,”
Sherry said.
Margo slid the plastic bib off of
Sherry’s chest and hung it on the peg beside the mirror. “Damn straight. Get good money for it too. Hey, it might look stupid on her, but I need
the business, and I can’t force taste on anybody. But you ain’t nothing like her. You’ve got a cute little heart-shaped face
and you don’t have big teeth.”
“Well, I don’t like to speak ill of anyone, but I have
to say that Miz Jenkins, bless her heart, is a little
on the homely side. I’m not so sure that
any hairdo could help those plain features of hers,” Sherry said.
Margo flashed a wry smile and propped herself against
the chair. “I’m with you on that. But, I
guess ol’ Larry Harbin don’t see it that way.”
“Oh, why do you say that?”
“Girl, ain’t you heard? Saturday before last, you know they had that
big dance down at the Legion. Well, you didn’t
hear it from me, but Adelaide Jenkins tossed back whiskey sours till she was feelin’ no pain.
Then, they say she started grabbing any man without a date and draggin’ them out on the dance floor, including Larry
Harbin…”
“Geez,
that’s hard to imagine. She seems so… I
don’t know, she seems like such an old school marm or something.
Isn’t Larry that skinny old man with the glass eye that plays checkers
down at the beer store most evenings?”
Sherry asked.
“Yep, that’s Larry. Well, hon, that ain’t the worst of it. Seems that she and Larry
had such a good time dancing, that they decided to take the party to her
house.”
“No!
Are you serious?”
“You know Gladys Ledbetter? Well, she’s been livin’
across the street from
“I don’t know. It’s hard to imagine. Anyway, I guess I should get going.” Sherry turned her head, inspecting the new look on each side. “I
guess it’ll be okay. What’d you say, fifty?”
“Fifty it is.”
Sherry rummaged through her
well-worn leather purse and produced her thin wallet, slipping three twenties
from the narrow slit and laying them on the counter. “Here ya go.
Get yourself some fresh Cheetos and rent a
good movie.”
“Thanks, hon,
you’ve got my number. Give me a call if
you have any trouble with it.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
“Have fun, bye.”
The small bell on the door tinkled
behind her as it swung shut. Margo
followed, flipping the sign to “Closed” when Adelaide Jenkins’ horse-face
appeared in the window and she waved.
Margo pushed the door open and stuck her head out. “Hey, girl, whatchoo doin’ downtown on a
Saturday afternoon?”
Mrs. Jenkins flashed a big smile and
held up a Wal-Mart bag. “Had to get some things down at Wally World. What’re you doing working on a Saturday? Was that Sherry I just saw with a new perm?”
“Yes, girl, and ain’t it awful? I tried and tried to tell her she wasn’t the
type for a perm. But you know some
people,” Margo said, shaking her head.
“I know. What ever made her decide to do it?”
“Oh,
Mrs. Jenkins again flashed her big,
toothy smile that made her look like a pale jack-o-lantern with blotchy
skin. “Well thanks, Margo. She got it today and wants it to look good
tonight? That’s pretty stupid. Should’ve had it done a week ago.”
“Yeah, I know that. But who knows what kind of dumb things people’ll do.”
“He got an award for selling vacuum
cleaners? I didn’t know there was such a
thing,” Mrs. Jenkins said, raising her eyebrows in a look of disbelief.
“Girl, they give awards for
everything these days. I imagine the paper’ll be announcin’ the
garbage man of the year pretty soon.”
“Garbage man of
the year. Margo, you’re a real
card!” she said, laughing. “Well, I need
to run. I’ll need to come and see you
pretty soon. I’ll give you a call on
Tuesday.”
“Yes ma’am, you do that.”