 Clients' ‘talk' edges them out of more than a good salon
From a Hair-nista in Gary, Ind.
Benjamin owned a quaint establishment called Uptown Cutz in the heart of a rather upwardly mobile neighborhood. For more than 10 years, he had carefully built the clientele and cultivated a drama-free atmosphere where clients could relax and be serviced in peace.
That is until Tamika and Angie decided to make his home their gossip center. The only reason he had not asked these two women to take their business elsewhere is because they were good friends with his lady, Kenya.
This woman was his heart. At 45, she had lived quite a life having graduated from high school at 15, entered the Air Force at 18, married at 19 and was widowed by 39. Being in the armed forces had taught her discretion, which is a quality Benjamin found rare in women. Not only was Kenya a very polished woman, she was talented, compassionate, intelligent, and just downright sexy.
It had been a long time since he had found a woman who challenged him to be his best. In fact because of her marketing acumen, Benjamin found ways to double profits by offering more environment friendly products, sending stylists to various classes, and keeping a professional atmosphere.
His only challenge about Kenya was her choice in friends. Kenya was often the object of Tamika and Angie's gossip fests. They disapproved of her celibate lifestyle, they hated her commitment to her church, and wished she would come out of the closet about her hair believing Kenya's thick, healthy mane was really a weave.
Today the bad-mouth duo were up to their same old conversational filth. Both were under the dryer dishing on Kenya.
"Girl, I am starting to think that Kenya will eventually end up in a loony bin for depression if she does not move on with her life and get a man," Tamika said.
"I know, right? I'm all for putting yourself on a man hiatus, especially since her husband died. But that was seven years ago. Enough already," Angie exclaimed.
The other stylists and clients shared disapproving looks. The women were oblivious to it all.
Benjamin walked past the dryers in the midst of their rant. His eyebrow cocked. "Ladies."
"Hey Benjamin," Angie cooed. "How are you today?"
"Could be better. Your gossip hurts my ears. Mind quitting?"
They laughed. "Oh Benjamin, you know women. We talk," Tamika said.
"Yeah. Talk. Okay," he said heading toward the front of the salon to his station.
"What's with him," Angie asked.
"Who knows? Anyway, about Kenya's hair...." Tamika's voice trailed off underneath the high trill of Angie's laughter.
As they were at it, Kenya arrived. Benjamin's whole demeanor lightened. He eyed a small jewelry box on his table. He grabbed it placing it in the front pocket of his smock. Seeing his boyish grin pleased the other stylists. Those in the "know" smiled approvingly.
"Hey sweetheart," Benjamin said giving Kenya a peck on the lips.
"Hey you," Kenya said blushing. "What's with the PDA?"
"Come with me," Benjamin said leading Kenya to the middle of the salon. "May I have everyone's attention?"
All looked over at Benjamin and Kenya. Even Tamika and Angie lifted up their hoods.
"For two years, I have been dating my client Kenya. She has blessed my life with her presence," he said. Then dropping to one knee he looked up into Kenya's almond-shaped eyes. "Will you marry me?"
Stunned, Angie and Tamika stared as Kenya tearfully answered a triumphant yes.
As Benjamin put the two-caret rock on her finger, both Angie and Tamika run to Kenya's side astonished and completely disappointed.
"Kenya," both Angie and Tamika exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell us?"
She removes a tape recorder from her purse and presses play. A similar gossip fest between Tamika and Angie plays back. They turn red with embarrassment.
"And just for the record," Kenya said, "I am not depressed nor in need of male companionship. And yes, ladies, my hair is real!"
Turning to Benjamin, Angie exclaims, "We won't be coming back."
Both women dig in their purse for their wallets, but Benjamin stops them. "Don't," he said. "Your styles are on me."
Unable to say another word, Tamika and Angie storm out of the salon with broken feelings shattered like glass.
Hair-nista chat question: How do you feel about gossip in the hair salon?
Submit your own real salon drama story. We may use it in an upcoming My Salon Drama post.
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