Dressed in her pink French terry sweat suit, Janey entered the shed row and heard screams. Now today, it was her turn for grooming torture. She glanced at the paper, which read stall eight. She passed other stalls where ladies screamed while hair waxed, unsightly moles lasered and fat vacuumed.
Finally, she came to the door marked eight, opened it and found a black leather chair behind a vanity mirror.
A strange man in white coveralls and a black pompadour hairstyle greeted her. He spun the chair in her direction. “Hello. I’m Todd. I will be grooming your mane.”
Todd studied her mangy, filthy mane, which had been so neglected, her hair dreaded into locks “Oh my,” Todd declared trying to run his fingers painted with black polish through her tangled hair. “Dear girl. Condition much?”
Janey looked at her reflection in the mirror. “I usually use a two in one.”
“Honey, never go cheap on conditioner.”
Using a large, horse curry comb, Todd tugged at the knots in Janey’s hair so hard that he pulled her neck in every direction. Large chucks of mud flew from Janey’s hair, making dents in the stall walls.
Janey reared her head. “Ouch! Do you have to pull so hard?”
“You can’t blame me for this disaster.”
Todd squeezed a large heap of pink gel onto the top of Janey’s head. He massaged hard into her scalp, twisting and turning her head with every motion. The white foam turned black from the mud in her hair. He dropped the back of the chair and hosed water over her head to rinse away the dirty foam. Once Janey’s hair was rinsed clean of filth, Todd flipped the back of the chair upright. Roughly, he toweled her head dry and then brushed her head with a horse soft bristle, dandy brush.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair fell into a full manageable mane like that of a top model. She did not remember her hair ever looking so healthy. It was an amazing transformation.
From the palm of his hand Todd offered Janey a sugar cube. “You deserve a little treat.” Todd patted her on the head. “Now, isn’t that better?”
She ate the cube from Todd’s palm and allowed the sweet treat to dissolve in her mouth.
He checked his clipboard that showed a very detailed schedule of contenders. “You are to go stall number fifteen.”
Janey slid off the leather seat, wondering what agony in the name of beauty awaited her in the confines of stall fifteen. It wasn’t a long trip, which was a good thing because it didn’t give her imagination time to ruminate. But then, perhaps, she would not have imagined something so horrific.