18. Jolene

We were driving for a while before I realized where we were headed. It's this little town between Maeve's county and ours, but it has a lively Hispanic community.

Maeve rolled down the windows, and the music came pouring in. I don't know what the hell they were saying but the beat had all three of us jumping. These two had to show off and started singing along at the top of their lungs, which the men we passed seemed to enjoy and started waving at us.

"See? People aren't usually dicks. Some good music, food, and a blunt, and everybody looks and sounds the same." That's Maeve's stance and we're all sticking to it if we know what's good for us.

‘Y eso sonaba tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi

Eso sonaba tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi

Eso sonaba tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi

Eso sonaba tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, ah'

By the time she stopped a few doors down, I was singing tuwi tuwi, too, because that's all I understood, but I know my mood had changed drastically for the better.

We'd pulled up in front of a salon of some sort, and when we opened the door, there was even more music. "Chica." This gorgeous, curvy Latina woman came over and kissed Maeve's cheek with a big, wide smile on her face.

"I brought you a new victim, mami′." She looked at Sheila and then me.

"You must be the victim; let me see." Ouch, okay, so Sheila is always put together, but damn, I didn't think I looked that bad.

She walked around me feeling my hair and nodding her head. Out of nowhere, an Asian lady walked over, took one look at the mess on my head, and shook her head. "Why for you do that? That no good."

"Mae Lee, go do nails and stop harassing my client." The lady whom Maeve called Juanita said jokingly as I was led to her chair, wondering what the hell was wrong with my hair. While we're on the subject, I've never seen an Asian with bad hair. What the hell is up with that?

Anyway, I had no say in what was going on over my head. The three of them, Maeve, Sheila, and Juanita, did all the talking, and I just sat there as my hair was grabbed and twisted this way and that until they agreed on something.

By my third Mama Juana, I was feeling no pain and was singing along with the rest of them to the music and wondering why this was the first time I'd enjoyed getting my hair done so much.

By the time she was through washing my hair, I needed a cigarette and a nap. I wasn't allowed to look while she used the brush and dryer method to curl my hair or when she put the rollers in after for whatever reason.

I closed my eyes when she started trimming the ends because I've had a bad experience with a scissor-happy stylist in the past, and it had taken me a minute to grow it back out over the years.

"Sweet Georgia Wine, your hair looks amazing." My eyes snapped open at Sheila's outburst, and there it was. "Ali McGraw with feathered hair." She's always saying I look like Ali McGraw, but the only thing I ever saw that lady in was Love Story and it was so sad I never looked at anything with her in it again.

The hair reminded me of those shows my Mama used to watch when I was younger: big fat curls that were brushed out until they looked almost natural on my straight hair.

"Shake your head, chica." I did as I was ordered, and the effect was amazing. Or it could've been the alcohol. Whatever, I was ready for whatever came next. Mae Lee did my nails and kept it classy, just a normal French manicure and not the talons Maeve tried to talk me into getting.

From there, she dragged me to the shopping center closer to home. "I have clothes, some I haven't even worn yet."

"Those are old married woman clothes; we need a new look to go with that hair. If we can get a man on the moon I saw we can get one on you tonight." What the hell?