Lustly(8)

I looked away before we met eyes, and prayed that she wasn’t judging me for looking like a dirt ball.

Thankfully, my name was called and I was seated at the sinks to have my hair washed. The beautician working on me greeted me. “My name is Stacia. Can you tell me what you’d like to do today?”

I closed my eyes and spoke while she started washing my hair. Admittedly, her touching me felt so nice. I knew she was just washing my hair, but it had been a long time since anyone had touched me at all. I wasn’t turned on, but more appreciative that I didn’t have leprosy or something that would prevent people from coming into contact with my skin.

“I think just a trim.”

I knew my roots were showing gray, and that I really needed a good dye job, but I had to save money. “Are you sure? We’re running a special this week on color.”

I thought about it for only a second. My husband owed me, and I knew if I’d asked he would have paid for it. “You know what, how about we do a cut and color, maybe some high and low lights. We could do my brows too, if that’s alright?”

The girl laughed. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

Once I had my hair in a towel, she took us over to her station and started brushing my hair. I noticed the rich woman with the dog being seated across from us. She was angry about her beautician making her wait.

Stacia leaned in close to me. “That is Ms. Cybil. She’s a regular.”

Since we were in a lower class part of town it baffled me that she was in this salon, instead of a fancy one in the heart of the city. “Is she always like that?”

“Pretty much. She’s been coming here for years.”

While she was drying my hair, preparing to do the foil color, I watched Ms. Cybil getting her color applied. We’d caught eyes a few times and I felt embarrassed about it. Once my color was in, I was taken to the dryers for the color to process. They seated me next to Ms. Cybil and she didn’t even acknowledge that I was there.

I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of the dryer hiding everything else going on in the salon. It was nice, having those few moments where it was just nothing but the loud sound of the machine.

Halfway through getting my hair done, I started to open up about my marriage, leaving out the details of still being in the relationship. I suppose I just needed to vent about it to anyone that would listen. As I spoke about my husband and the floozy neighbor, I noticed Ms. Cybil watching me, as if she were judging me for being cheated on.

Stacia talked about a friend of hers who had the same thing happen, and I felt an instant connection to her, as if talking to her had been the best conversation I’d had in a long time. When my hair was cut, and finally styled I liked what I saw in the mirror. If I’d had makeup on one wouldn’t be able to tell that I’d cried for half of the day already.

I went to pay and noticed Cybil getting a manicure. After chewing on my nails, I knew they needed attention. “You know what, I think I want my nails done and painted. Can you add that to my total?” What was my husband going to do about it? It wasn’t like he’d even notice anyway.

After they sat me next to Cybil, I was greeted by an older woman, probably in her fifties. She was having a conversation with Cybil, as if I wasn’t sitting in front of her. When she got a phone call, she left me sitting there, feeling very out of place. I could sense her eyes on me and turned to validate my assumptions.

The woman, who looked to be in her fifties was steady staring at me. “Your hair looks much better. I’m glad to see you took care of that hot mess you came in here with.”

I shrugged, not sure if it was a compliment or a cut down. “Thanks.”

“I heard you talking to Stacia.” She said nothing else. To be honest I was creeped out by her knowing my business, even if I’d falsified some of the details.

“Are you married, ma’am?”

The woman cackled. “Please, don’t call me ma’am. My name is Cybil,” she said in a very stern way.

“Well, are you married, Cybil?”

“Divorced, thank God. Marriage is a travesty that naive people make when they mistake lust for love.”

She was to the point and completely ridiculous. For sure I’d been in love when I married my husband. “I’d like to think that some people are capable of love.”

Cybil stood up and laughed. “It’s just a word, my dear. It’s a powerful word that only leads to despair.” Figuring she’d been burned too, I kept my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted to do was piss her off. After grabbing her bag with her dog, and paying, she walked back over towards me. “No man is worth the pain you’re putting yourself through. Don’t wither away because of someone who is beneath you.”

She was a feminist for sure, burned by someone who left her heartless. I pitied her, but admired her at the same time. “Thanks for the advice.”

The woman winked and walked outside, without saying anything else.

While letting my nails dry I thought about her words. Maybe in some weird way she had a point. I was in control of my life, with or without money. The only problem was without it, I had nothing to go on.

After I knew my nails were dry, I pulled out the emergency credit card my husband had given me, and passed it across the counter. The woman passed it back. “Ms. Cybil paid for you. She left this, too.”