10.26 The Abyss of WonderLand

I slammed my finger on the elevator button and took a bite out of my semi-wrapped sandwich.

I had to scurry to get to Caroon’s Hairstyling. It was a good half mile from the office, in an upscale part of town. When I got there, I took one look at the shadow dark windows and knew it was a prestigious salon. Even from the outside of the building, I could see chandeliers offering elegant streams of lights.

The door was fashioned with delicate scrolls of gold that matched the modern-looking door handle. I wiped off my hands on a napkin I’d carted with me, along with my now finished tuna salad with pickle — hold the onions —wrappings and placed my hand on the door’s fancy door opener. The lever didn’t move downwards. The door simply opened at my touch, high class and automatic.

No time to pause. A woman, in a sharp-looking, navy skirt suit with a scooped white top and dress pumps that looked tight and uncomfortable, met me at the door. She had the kind of polished look I’d never attain. I bet her outfit was from one of those uptown shops that didn’t carry my size.

“Hello, you must be Penelope Casey,” the woman said with a British accent so thick it was like the cream cheese frosting on a carrot cake, the really good kind. Not that I was coming on to the woman in front of me. I didn’t swing that way. I was way more into Darcy’s tall, dark, and dreamy — well, at least, definitely the male gender.

“Come right in. I’m so glad you’re here early. We have time to chat over a spot of tea.”

A spot? I almost choked on that. I hoped if she gave me tea, I didn’t spill it and put spots on both my clothing and her furniture.

Luckily, the woman didn’t require my responses as she kept up a dialogue about how long she’d known Judy Sanders and how she’d do anything for her. Did she slip a look at me, indicating that she was only willing to work on someone who looked like me because of her friendship with Judy?

There were at least twelve rooms in the salon, each holding a woman and her stylist. As we walked toward the tea I’d been promised, I had an urge to peek inside the rooms to see what miracles were taking place, but I didn’t know if it was proper to look. Was getting your hair done a secretive operation in this neck of the woods? I remembered the dark tinted windows at the front of the building and thought that maybe it was better if I didn’t peer into the chambers as we passed.