You can’t understand life in our tiny community without knowing who pulls the levers. That would be Lorretta. She runs the beauty salon and keeps her fingers on the pulse of our lives. She has flaming red hair and wears cat eyeglasses with turquoise and blue bangles on a lanyard around her neck. Kind of like an edgy Lucille Ball. Along with a penchant for brightly colored clothes, our girl makes an entrance wherever she goes. When asked if red was her natural hair color her response was, “As long as I own a salon no one will ever know.” Her shop: “Poof to Pixie” is housed in a repossessed trailer house that her husband Travis repurposed for her. He did a great job and his work has morphed into the halls of power for the hamlet.
Loretta is a strong-willed opinionated woman. When asked if she is for equality for women she says, “I am not giving up power for anyone.” Twenty years ago she quit smoking. She did it with an iron will and walked every day. She ended up going distances of 3 or 4 miles daily. She still walks every day and it has made her an athletic-looking woman. Bragging in the salon that you could crack walnuts with her ass now is a regular occurrence. She even has been heard to say, “I am thinking about adding a codicil to my will. It will stipulate that I be buried face down. I want the world to marvel at my ass and allow Travis one last look at what he will be missing.”
All of the men think of her as Lysistrata. With a word from her, all the women in town would refrain from sex until Loretta deems the punishment sufficient. It has never happened, but no one wants to push the issue. A scary woman. Last week a woman came up to the Mayor and says, “Loretta wants you to drop by when you can. She has a question for you.” The mayor instantly looked pale and asked the first person he saw, “What do you think that is about?” After saying he didn’t have a clue. The mayor turned and hurried off asking everyone he saw if Loretta was OK.
Poof to Pixie has a routine that the women of this town find reassuring. No matter what is happening in their lives, Loretta provides the stability that is the anchor during tumultuous times. A new hairdo seems to give a woman a new start. A do-over if you will. Plus, the gossip is delicious.
The trailer was expertly converted into a beauty salon by Travis. The entrance that would have been the living room and kitchen area was given three chairs and sinks for washing hair. The right wall had three of those hair-drying chairs with platform base dryers. A place where women read magazines or knit. The noise of the dryers precluded talking. It is one of those bring something to do kind of activities. The two smaller bedrooms had a chair and sink in each. The largest bedroom served as a canteen for all of the beauty products that were for sale. The clutter of clippers, scissors, combs, etc., littered the countertops. The walls had a plethora of posters of hairstyles, color charts, and trends. Pedestals with samples of what was for sale and clutter of magazines everywhere. The only thing missing was fortune cookies.
Loretta had a cash register with a tall swivel chair at the entrance. She tried to funnel most of the business to the women that rented stations from her. In essence, she held court. When she was working that meant business was good or they were her old friends. The women that had the backrooms, specialized in edgy looks. Piercings, tattoos, and bright hair colors were in vogue. Orange hair has walked out of there that would have made Ronald McDonald jealous.
The chair on the left was rented by Lisa. She was a young woman in her twenties and drop-dead gorgeous. Blond hair, a great figure, and perfect skin. Not too much makeup and always well dressed. This girl was a thoroughbred of a woman. The kind of woman that makes a restaurant go silent when she walks in. She had a reserved demeanor: very little chit-chat and strictly business. How she ended up here is a mystery. With little effort, she could have reduced the town to ashes with little more than a come-hither look. But she didn’t and seems to want to have a job and keep her life private. The most dangerous thing about her was her ability to give a great haircut.
Our town barber was left wandering around town because there wasn’t enough business. Whenever he met someone on the street he would lean in with a conspiratorial smile and say he had a joke he had just heard that he would share the next time you came in for a haircut. As if to say it was so risqué that it could not be told within 300 feet of a woman. That didn’t help. He wasn’t able to make it in a small town where the men think of getting haircuts more often than once every six weeks as vainglorious behavior. That left Lisa as the go-to girl for haircuts.
When someone comes in for a haircut at the salon, activities stop. What happens at Loretta’s stays at Loretta’s unless you are male. Therein lies the danger. When a guy sits in Lisa’s chair the women under the hair dryers stop knitting or reading. Three pairs of eyes are glued to the patron getting the haircut. Loretta and her customers keep an eye on him till his behavior proves he is there for just a haircut. Then slowly the noise levels go back to normal. An old man sitting down in the chair didn’t phase them. Women can be so cruel. The women aren’t all that smart though. They haven’t noticed the men in town are getting haircuts on a weekly or bi-weekly basis now.
###
Dottie and Loretta have been the best of friends since first grade. They talk all day long about everything. Their conversation has been ongoing for decades. Watching and listening to them makes it readily apparent this friendship is special. Nothing is verboten. Dottie was complaining about her husband not giving her enough money.
She once said, “We ought to consider selling ourselves to make money.”
To which Loretta replied, “God, Dot at our age to make money we would have to do some incredibly sick shit!”
*
*
*
“Like What?”