Glamorous
Hers was a profession of cosmetics;
his was mortuary. Her sign read "Glamorous Hair and
Nails." Hair and nails are comprised of dead skin cells,
and no one will argue that there is nothing glamorous about dead
skin cells. Plainly put, hers was a profession of making
dead cells look lively, (or maybe lovely). Essentially,
he did the same thing. Dead people are comprised of dead
skin cells. His job was to make dead cells look alive, but
his sign didn't advertise any glamorous pretenses. No one
could explain why a mortician would be in a beauty shop, but then
again, no one could explain why anybody would want to be a mortician
in the first place. The fact is, there he was. Of
a sudden, he overheard the matron of the shop talking about the
difficulties of creating "glamorous" hair and nails.
It was at this time that he made his presence and opinion known.
"What's so hard about slapping some paint on nails, and cutting
a few inches of hair? Anyone could do that. I don't
see any reason to complain about dabbing a little make up here
and polishing a few toes there." Her response was a
bit delayed by her exasperation.
"You think that's all I have to do? I don't merely
cut hair! I tease it, perm it, straighten it, highlight
it, lowlight it, crimp it, curl it, and make it all together
glamorous. And I don't simply slap paint on nails, I scrub,
polish, clean, buff and brush nails, corns, bunions and blisters.
Tell me what you do that's so fancy." His retort was
calculated and graceful.
"All of these I can do with the greatest of ease. Perhaps
you might try to conceal suture marks from a six inch lateral
facial laceration while still restoring that magical luster to
their cheeks so they can appear in their casket as if ready to
attend a gala. I not only prepare their hair and nails,
but I apply enough make-up to not only make them look alive, but
'glamorous', as you say." Her response did not come,
for not much can be said to such a statement. Instead of
admitting checkmate to him, she asked the question everyone was
thinking, but was afraid to ask. What was he doing in a
beauty salon? To her query, his response was quite brief
and even a bit terse.
"I need some hairspray."
Nemo