Chop Chop

I worked downtown for many years. Every few weeks I went to a nail/hair salon on the next block for a manicure. Occasionally a meeting would come up and I would have to cancel. Nail person was overbooked. She was very kind but I didn't have time to mess with the scheduling. I went to the chop/chop shop by my house. (Her description -- not mine.)

When my business changed, the chop/chop shop became way more convenient. Then, the oldies came to live with us. She visits the same chop/chop shop. They speak a different language there but yelling at each other is yelling at each other in any language. I pretend not to notice. The mother-in-law camps there and asks questions. She's southern and she charms them. They are there for the long haul -- manicures and pedicures for both of them. Then, she gets the scoop. We know way too much about the lives of our Chop/Chop people.

Sometimes I try to pinch a few pennies with my hair stylist so I'll have my roots done but no haircut. This can go on for a while but then I start looking a little Pentecostal. I have to bite the bullet and go whole hog: Do the roots, do the foils, wax my brows and chop chop away with the hair.

We were watching television the other night and Big Daddy made a comment about women who don't "keep themselves up." (I don't know what that means but I got a little paranoid that he was staring at my roots.) Coincidentally, I had a hair appointment the next day. I did it all, including chopping about 3 1/2 inches off my mane.

He didn't comment. I truly believe he hasn't noticed. Nor did the oldies. All of my girlfriends noticed immediately.