While waiting for my hairdresser to finish up the appt before mine, I got into a conversation with another beautician. (wait! conversation isn’t the right word, it would indicate an exchange of thoughts or ideas — this was more a matter of me just nodding and smiling politely)
Anyway she was very nervous and excited. And chatty. Very, VERY chatty.
Today she’s starting a new job. A second job. But she was very worried because it starts at 6 p.m. and she’s really concerned that she won’t make it on time because of rush hour traffic.
Ya think? NJ at rush hour — where won’t you hit traffic?
“What if there’s an accident?” she says. “Or what if the traffic lights go out?I mean I’ve got to be on stage AT six. Six o’clock on the dot.”
On stage? There’s only one job I can think of that you’d need to be on stage for at six. Crap, how do I always end up in these weird conversations? Oh…she could be doing dinner theater…dinner theater might start at six….are there any dinner theaters left around here?
I cast a furtive look in the direction of my hairdresser. She’s blowdrying what looks like Cousin It. She will not be rescuing me from this.
“I’ve never stripped professionally before.”
Does anyone else think “Professional Stripper” is an oxymoron?
But my friends all say I can make some really good tips. More than I make here.
Thankfully at that moment her next client walked in and she busied herself with greeting him. I wonder if she told him about her new job.
He looked to be about seven.