What really happened to my hairdresser when she ran off to Oklahoma!

My hairdresser, the one who suddenly moved to Oklahoma three years ago and left me alone holding my fried dyed head, is shouting at me over the phone.

“Venus I still can’t believe it! This twenty seven year old guy, my client, got out of the chair, gave me a goofy, moony look, grabbed me, picked me up and leaned me against the wall in my hair salon!”

“Wait! Wait!” I say, “Back up, back up, what are you saying? Tell me, again what you said before this happened.”

It’s raining in California and I am laid out on the couch by the fireplace sipping a bit of gin, listening to my ex hairdresser friend tell me how bad her life has become.

‘K’ has been saying how much she hates living in a ‘tiny inbred town’ in Oklahoma in the near middle of the USA.

“Where,” she says, “most people have been on welfare for three generations, don’t work, don’t want to work, are lazy, snort meth and have no teeth.”

My hairdresser lost her house to foreclosure in California and moved into the heart of the country where she has a grown (but not mature) son for some kind of infrequent company.

She had hoped for better times.

” Venus! He’s twenty seven years old! And I’m 67 years old for god’s sake,” ‘K’ is saying. “I’m 67 years old!”

“Yes, but you have beautiful skin,” I say.

And lovely bottled red hair. She is a bit overweight but we call it curvy.

“The men here” she says, “are all fat and ugly and they have no teeth and they are lazy! But, this one guy, a construction worker comes into my shop once a month to get his hair cut. He comes over the line from Texas to see his family. He’s twenty-seven years old and he’s handsome, Venus, and smart! He’s got a really hard body and he’s so unlike the men in this town! But, all I do is cut his hair, for Pete’s sake…and here he is, it just happens…”

“What happens?” I struggle up from the couch and pay more attention.

“It’s in the evening and everyone in the salon has gone home. It’s just me and this fellow, like it’s been many times when I have cut his hair.

“Venus, I’m just cutting his hair as usual, he’s sitting in the chair and we’re chatting about mundane things and suddenly he says, ‘You’re so hot. You’re so hot. You’re not like the other women around here.. they’re fat and dumb and you’re so smart and beautiful.’

“Then, he jumps outta’ the chair and wraps his arms around me and tries to kiss me and I’m saying ‘Stop this! What are you doing!?’

“He’s always been a gentleman with me so I am shocked. Then, he leans me up against the wall and wraps my legs around his waist! Venus, I am sixty seven years old!

I am picturing this! He’s twenty-seven. She is sixty-seven.

“Were you wearing a dress or pants” I say. I am always practical

“Venus!” ‘K’ shouts at me over the phone. “He wrapped my legs around his waist and started grinding away at me…then he started yanking my legs this way, and yanking them that way and golly Venus I thought he was going to break my hip. All I could think was that he was going to break my bad hip with one of these swings, or drop me and break my hip! And I’ve got anemia and rheumatoid arthritis you know. Two of my fingers swing off to the side.”

Both ‘K’ and I are snorting kind of noisily.

‘K’ says, “I’m yelling at him, ‘Stop! Stop, I’m fat…I’m old enough to be your mother! Your grandmother! Even your great grandmother….Stop! I cut your mother’s hair! This isn’t right!!

“Finally I get him to calm down and shove him out of the salon, lock the doors and put down the curtains..But, he keeps trying to call me from his truck in the parking lot. I won’t answer. So, he texts me, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do it again…I don’t know why I acted so badly but you are just so hot.”

I honestly don’t know what to say. Comments fail me.

We’re not through with this conversation.

“And that’s not all Venus,” ‘K’ says, sounding delirious and kind of whoopy and high.

“There’s an 80 year old man in this town and he’s very highly regarded and I also cut his hair all the time. He has masses of thick white hair that stands straight up in the air.

“But, the last time he was in here, while I was cutting his hair, he reached out and grabbed both my breasts and twirled them!

I said, ‘You can’t do that, stop that right now!’

So then he leaned over and grabbed my butt and squeezed it real hard and I was yelling at him and then he grabbed himself!

“I had to peel him off me and tell him to stop this right now and I said I was never going to cut his hair again and I won’t! The salon owner heard the commotion and she roared out of the back room and beat Mr. G out the front door with a broom!”

Both ‘K’ and I are now breathless and sucking air

‘K’ squeaks and repeats again, “And I am sixty-seven!”

“Wow,” I say. “So how soon can I come out and visit you…. nothing this good has happened to me in ages!”

I’m thinking……

Maybe when you are younger this is sexual and criminal harassment but when you are sixty-seven? It is more like astonishment.

And, it surely keeps your blood pressure in fine form and your heart pumping so it must be anti-aging, right?

Would doctor’s recommend it?

Good Old Oklahoma! The Healthy Land For Older Ladies With Good Appearance?

As the song says,

“Yeeow! Ayipioeeay!

We’re only sayin’

You’re doin’ fine, Oklahoma!

Oklahoma O.K.

L – A – H – O – M – A

OKLAHOMA!

Yeeow!”


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