welcome readers & writers! a good wednesday to you, mateys. thanks to krowles1981 and chuck galle for your early morning posts on yesterday's photo - i was happy to see them in my inbox.
***
i took this photo on a trip through western texas in july. in case you can't read the small writing under "ROO'S" it says NAILS & TOES. here's my story about Roo's place. i'd love to read yours!
-
Roo dabbed some powder on her nose. Still in the parking lot, she was waiting for Lonestar's Already There to end. With a click she shut the compact and tucked it into her purse, humming along. The energy she felt for work now was amazing. She'd been renting a chair in a big salon a few blocks from town square, but the place was the pits. Gossip. Catfights. No one hired to sweep up or wash towels. Most nights Roo was the last to leave. Even the owner would take off early, calling to Roo, "Thanks, hun!" Roo left exhausted, only to do it all again the next day. Until February.
-
On Valentine's Day, her husband Burt took her out to dinner and then, on the way home, pulled into this very lot. She'd made a joke about parking. He'd laughed and leaned in to kiss her, but only once before pulling her out of the car into chilly night air. When they were front and center to the building he'd hollered "Okay!" His buddy Frank, who'd been waiting to turn on the porch light, flipped the switch. "Happy Valentine's Day, Ruby Marie," he'd whispered in her ear. She'd been in heaven ever since. Long hours and sore feet as an investment in your own place is a real pleasure.
-
She chuckled, wishing again that he hadn't painted it brown. New paint was already stashed in the back room, but she was gonna wait another month or two so as not to hurt his feelings. No matter. It might be beige on the outside, but inside, from nine to six-thirty Tuesday through Saturday, the place was abuzz with color: Palest Pink, Fire Engine Red, St. Patty's Green, Jack-O-Lantern. Bright smiles, good music, and laughter. The song ended and Roo hopped out of the car. Time to start the day!
-
Click on comments below to share your story, poem or creative non-fiction response to the photo.
-
Roo dabbed some powder on her nose. Still in the parking lot, she was waiting for Lonestar's Already There to end. With a click she shut the compact and tucked it into her purse, humming along. The energy she felt for work now was amazing. She'd been renting a chair in a big salon a few blocks from town square, but the place was the pits. Gossip. Catfights. No one hired to sweep up or wash towels. Most nights Roo was the last to leave. Even the owner would take off early, calling to Roo, "Thanks, hun!" Roo left exhausted, only to do it all again the next day. Until February.
-
On Valentine's Day, her husband Burt took her out to dinner and then, on the way home, pulled into this very lot. She'd made a joke about parking. He'd laughed and leaned in to kiss her, but only once before pulling her out of the car into chilly night air. When they were front and center to the building he'd hollered "Okay!" His buddy Frank, who'd been waiting to turn on the porch light, flipped the switch. "Happy Valentine's Day, Ruby Marie," he'd whispered in her ear. She'd been in heaven ever since. Long hours and sore feet as an investment in your own place is a real pleasure.
-
She chuckled, wishing again that he hadn't painted it brown. New paint was already stashed in the back room, but she was gonna wait another month or two so as not to hurt his feelings. No matter. It might be beige on the outside, but inside, from nine to six-thirty Tuesday through Saturday, the place was abuzz with color: Palest Pink, Fire Engine Red, St. Patty's Green, Jack-O-Lantern. Bright smiles, good music, and laughter. The song ended and Roo hopped out of the car. Time to start the day!
-
Click on comments below to share your story, poem or creative non-fiction response to the photo.
"Uh..." Katy swallowed, searching for the words as she studied the drab monstrosity that was the building before her. "It's nice."
ReplyDelete"I knew you'd like it!" Janine Roosevelt clapped her hands. "I picked that curly font so it'd look fancy," she said, punctuating her sentence with a pop of her gum.
Katy swallowed the words that were waiting on her tongue. "It looks nice," she repeated.
Seriously, her aunt Janine knew she was a designer and yet THIS was the sign hanging on the front of her BROWN trailer?
"Yup, Bobby Jenkins printed it up for me at Signs 'N Stuff for next to nothin'."
“I'll bet,” Katy thought, but instead she settled for a non-confrontational, "That's great."
If her tone belied her words, Aunt Janine didn't notice.
"I asked you to stop by so you’d be my first official client," Janine continued, a glossy smile glued to her heavily made-up face.
From a Bedazzled jean jacket to puffy hair held in place with a scrunchie, Janine was the picture of style-gone-wrong. Katy routinely paid over a hundred dollars for a haircut from a French man with a French boyfriend. Thank God Janine didn't do hair.
Janine waved a hand at her. "It's free, of course, but only because you’re my favorite niece."
Katy's gaze caught on Janine's fluorescent pink talons as she grasped her forearm. She winced even though her aunt's hold was loose. When she did get her nails done, Katy never ventured far from pale pink. Janine's ornamental glitter, jewels and (gulp) airbrushing, was enough to send her fleeing for her life.
Before she could beg off with a legitimate excuse, Aunt Janine was shoving her toward the door, promising her the choice of over three hundred nail colors.
As her grinning, over-the-top family member held the door open and gave her an expectant look, Katy paused. But as she cast a last, desperate glance at the empty road alongside her aunt's new business, her fears were confirmed. No one was peeling around the corner to rescue her from what was to certainly be a spa-day-gone-wrong.
Katy put her foot onto the step, bidding a silent farewell to the neutrally painted toenails poking out her four-hundred dollar sandals.
With a resonating sigh, she closed her eyes and entered the unknown.
I would never go into Roos. As a man... a boy... a fella... no way. This place looks just like every little trailer dreamer business in every small town in Texas. Slap some paint on... what a cute name... hah.... nope. Not ever going in.
ReplyDeleteNow this is of course a problem as my wallet is in there. Don't ask, I ain't tellin' ya. I can't drive home... because my keys are with my wallet. And frankly at this point I have run out of thoughtful options. Blame it on the girl if you like, but truthfully it's all on me.
Now when I was little my momma asked me if I would eat a mudpie if that lil neighbor girl asked me to... and told me to be my own man and all that. And I have tried to live up to that. As in, I have never eatin' a mudpie made by anybody. I figure this is pretty good as things go. But. I could really use my pants back. Which is where my wallet and keys are.
I am thinkin' that maybe... blowin' my top at her last night was not such a good idea. I woke up naked in the back of the pickup. Thank you for the tarp sweatheart. All day I been waitin' outsida Roos for her to come out. She sure as shit thinks this is funny I know... because she winks at me from outta the window every hour or so.
Now who can I get to go in there?