Hair Color Me Bad

I was 19 my first year working in the salon. I was still fresh to the cosmetology field and not so much aware, as any hair stylist can tell you, of the fact friends and family will do anything to get free services from you. The hair world was still new and exciting to me so when my cousin needed a full color correction I was more than excited to take on the challenge.

Natalie drove down the 40 miles or so from Corona to Long Beach that afternoon. I attempted to work the magic of removing black hair color from baby fine hair without damage. Several hours later I succeeded the only problem, we were out of time. We couldnt do the final step of applying Natalie’s new color. I wrapped up Natalie’s hair in a scarf and made her an appointment for the following morning.

Natalie never showed up.

Natalie didn’t answer her phone or return my voicemails.

Flash forward: Thanksgiving two months later. I’m at my grandparents house along with the entire family. Grandpa is in the kitchen carving the turkey. I’m sitting across from Natalie. My uncle to my left, my aunt is to the right.

My uncle says to Natalie,
“How did your hair turn out?”

Dumb struck, Natalie sits there silently.

Then I said to Natalie, “Whatever happened to you by the way? I tired calling but you didn’t answer. I was worried something bad had happened.”

“Oh, my mom wouldn’t let me use the car.” Natalie said.

“You could have called at least. I marked my day out for you, I lost money.” I said.

Natalie looks to my aunt for help. Instead my aunt yells at her,
“I had already told you you couldnt use the car that day.”

I say again, “Someone still could have called me.”

With that I got up to use the restroom. Once finished I walked out and back towards my spot at the table.

Thats when it happened.

My aunt jumped up and confronted me.

“You are just a hateful little bitch, aren’t you?”
She asked.

So, I did what any scared, cornered teenager would do. I reached into the depth of my throat and hawked a giant loogie in my aunts face.

This did not go over well with grandpa. He stopped his turkey carving and with knife still in hand chased me out the front door.

I haven’t been invited back to a holiday function since.

I am a holiday orphan.

I wish Donut would spend the holidays with me.

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