The Gig Up North

That Look

I was incredibly proud of myself. I had completed a total of thirty foils on Roger’s hair. I first rinsed the bowl out in the sink and sat it aside. It was time to check the foils. I was walkin’ a fine line right now in these foils stayin’ on too long.  I opened one up near his face and gasped.

 “What does that mean!? What does that mean!?” Roger asked me a bit excitedly. I had given him the southern comfort bottle back about halfway through this hair transformation and believe me…he had officially had pleeeeenty to drink.

 “It’s…it’s beautiful.” I said. Truth was this was only a preview. I couldn’t wait to tear this foil out of his hair and wash everything out.  I went into the kitchen to get the trash can and pulled it over beside Roger. I began pulling the foil out. The more foil I took out, the more I could feel my heart poundin’.  I had worried so much…but not now. “Sorry, sweetheart. I know I’m pullin’ ya’ hair.” I had about ten foils out at this point. This may have been…the hottest thing I’d ever done in my life. Freddie, John, Brian and Veronica were a little oblivious as to what was happening right now because they were engrossed in Freddie’s elaborate story that was goin’ nowhere fast.

 “Rog…Rog…sweetheart…you can’t sway on this barstool. Hold still.” I reminded him. My latex gloves were covered in ammonia bleach and I was so careful not to get anything on him.

 “Ooooh, I’m sorry, Lyd. I’m sorry…I’ll be good.” He said.

 “Just for now…you can be bad later.” Okay, maybe I too had had pleeeeenty to drink tonight. I typically kept myself under somewhat of a censor at least…hell that censor was gone now. Nine more foils out, not too many more to go. Freddie had said something to send John into a laughing fit in the living room as John poured another drink.  “No! No! No! Sweetheart! Don’t touch it!” I said that louder than I had intended. Unfortunately…it had been loud enough to catch Freddie’s attention.

 “Roger! Hey Roger, whatever you’re touching…keep touchin’ it!” he said, turning around on the couch.  “Oh my god! Look at you! It’s like you’ve had your head in a bucket of glue!” Freddie remarked. I had six more foils out and I was craving a cigarette so much.

 “Sweetheart! You’re gonna’ get bleach all over your hands!” I said much gentler this time.

 “Sorry! I keep forgetting and I think I just want to keep hearin’ your sweet voice. Lyd…how about you and I…have a cigarette…right now?”

 “As much as I would love that, Rog…I need to finish up. We need to get this stuff washed out.” I explained. Finally, last four foils. It was all out.

 “Lydia! Lydia, do you know how to dance!? If I were to say, dance with Brian would you know what to do?” Freddie asked, obviously getting Brian all roweled up.

 “Fred, you idiot!” he yelled at him.

 “Fourteen years of classical ballet wouldn’t betray me now, Freddie.” I answered him.

 “Oh, I bet you’re just the bendiest little thing!” Freddie said. “What are you doing now?” he had spun around on the couch again. I had gotten Roger up from the barstool and taken him into the kitchen over the sink. I turned the water on and pulled one of my gloves off to test it’s temperature.

 “Washin’ the color out.” I answered still waitin’ on this water to arrive at a good temperature. “Okay, sweetheart, turn around…put ya’ head in the sink.” Roger had his back to the sink and I pushed him down underneath the water and removed the other glove. “Shit…don’t move…” I had to string water all the way across the counter to get my shampoo. It was at this point I had made my decision…this was definitely the hottest thing I’d ever done.