Salon | Unzipped

S A L O N +|+ U N Z I P P E D +|+ C O U R T N E Y+W E A V E R

People die.
Husbands cheat.
Women cry.

"People die. Husbands cheat. Women cry." Marie ran her fingers through my freshly shampooed hair and met my eyes in the mirror. "That's the ad slogan for the opera. Funny how I can relate to it." She began working a comb through my tresses. "You know, you don't have to have a hair appointment to talk to me. There is this contraption called the phone."
"I've heard of it." I sniffed a wet chunk of hair, and smiled. "I like this new conditioner. Rosemary and peppermint, huh? Reminds me of my mother's roast leg of lamb."
"How much do you want taken off? The usual eighth of an inch?"
"How about a half an inch?"
"Living on the edge, I see." She tightened the fire-engine red nylon smock around my neck. Some tinkling bells wafted through the air, followed by an unearthly wail. "Bulgarian women's chorus," Marie said, anticipating the question. "This guy I'm seeing, he's a Buddhist. I'm trying to get more spiritual, and this was the closest I could get at the present time."
I settled back into the chair as she spritzed my head with a eucalyptus-smelling mist. "I guess that means you and Gavin aren't back together."
"Divorce," said Marie flatly. "I have all the papers. I've filled them out. It's just a matter of filing them. But first I want it in writing that that wench isn't getting anywhere near my daughter." She sectioned off parts of my hair, pinning them to the top of my scalp. "I probably can't ask for that, but believe me I'm going to try."
I thought uncomfortably about my own transgressions in this department, and shifted in my seat. "I can't believe he's still seeing her. Really, I thought by now he would have gotten her out of his system. Didn't you tell me she has fake breasts? Or did I dream that?"

N E X T+P A G E+| KEEP YOUR TRAMP AWAY FROM MY BABY