It's 12:26 and I am with my client at the beauty salon. She is getting her hair cut today. I take care of older people, Mary. I love what I do. Most of the people I work with have some form of dementia. I've been doing this for a very long time and let me tell you, getting old is not easy. Neither is dying young I suppose. It's all a challenge.
I don't really like the lady who does my client's hair. I just don't. I don't think she likes me much either. And that's ok. I don't know what it is. The energy between us is just off for some reason. She calls me honey and sweetie and things like that and I don't like it coming from her. Her tone is always short and dismissive with me. Why am I focusing on her so much? I'm a writer, Mary. That's what I do. I write about my experiences and feelings. You know that don't you? And sometimes I can be pretty petty.
Oh, and guess what? When I called her last week to schedule this appointment I asked for a time after 2:00. I told her I didn't care what day it was on just as long as it was after 2. She wouldn't work with me. "What about 11:30?" I told her that was too early. "What about 12:30?" Now, is 12:30 after 2? No. Well, she wasn't moving from 12:30 and truthfully I think it's because I requested a certain time. Maybe it's me. Perhaps it's all in my head. I explained to her that Cynthia, my client (that's not her real name but I don't want to post her real name here on my blog. Do you know what a blog is?) doesn't get up until about 11:30 and that it's easier on her to be here later. Well, in the end the appointment was 12:30.
We arrived about ten minutes early because that's how I like to do things. When we walked in she said, "Oh, you're early? I started to call you and take you up on your offer to be here at 2 but..." She didn't finish the sentence. Like it even matters. Mary, I don't know how it is where you are but some human beings are really a trip. I mean really. I just wanted to get all of that off me. See, I told you I wanted you to get to know me. To know me is to know these petty things about me.
In other news, I had a really good show last night. I told you I am a poet. Well, I write poetry and I'm also a performance poet. I'm also a photographer and painter. Maybe you would have been an artist too. Maybe you are now. I'm so curious about how you spend your days. Are you in heaven? That's what we call it on earth, heaven. Did you come back to earth as somebody else? I believe in that you know. Reincarnation. What was the purpose of your life? I so want to know why you only stayed three days. Maybe that was always the plan.
I had this thought this morning that we could have coffee or tea some mornings together and talk. Not now though. I'm not ready for that. It would be ok though if you came to me in my dreams. Easy though. Be easy. I bet if I knew you, you would be really easy to talk to. I have a pretty good sense about these things.
I don't know why this is coming up for me now, Mary but I want to tell you something. Ok you know I have a son, Uraeus. O you would love him. But several years ago I was going to have another child. Maybe a daughter. In my heart she was a girl. I didn't have my daughter. She is where you are. Do you know her? I was going to name her Water. Maybe that's not a beautiful name for a girl but it's what I wanted for my daughter. I wanted her to be strong like water. Nothing can whip water. You know that? Not even fire. Water always tells. It tells whatever. It has its own way of telling. I never told anything. Not in the moment anyway. Water is not afraid. Water is not afraid of anything or anyone. Folks are afraid of water! O Mary, tell me you know my Water.
Haircut lady quickly trimmed Cynthia's hair and put her in the back to watch stupid soap operas while she works on another woman's hair. I won't bother to explain what soap operas are. Anyway it's like 1:31 and she is working on the other woman. Really, Mary, she could have called. When we got here haircut lady asked, "How's her time because I'm running behind?" Well, she's eighty-seven years old, how much does she think is on her schedule? Have the decency to ask about my time. She's rude. And it's the worse kind. She's subtle and all honey and sweetie with it. I try not to complain because I have never had a client as easy as Cynthia. Never. I love my relationship with her and her son and daughter-in-law whom she lives with. What's the big deal about a haircut once a month?
Haircut lady, who will remain nameless, must remind me of someone in my childhood or something. As a general rule, people don't get on my nerves the way she does. Whatever. I say that a lot, Mary. "Whatever." It just means that I have more to say on the subject but what's the use? Or that I just don't feel like talking about it in the moment but I have feelings about it. It's a common saying.
1:41 and she is just really getting started. AND she keeps mispronouncing Cynthia's name. I want to correct her but it won't come out right. I know it. I had planned on telling you about all of the great things about me today but that's just not how it worked out. Love me anyway please.