It’s 1979 and the bus rattled along the road.
Sasha was in a band that preformed funky disco music in clubs about their state.
They all wore white pantsuits and golden hoop earrings, but their most notable feature was their large, puffy Afros.
They called themselves Sasha and the big hairs.
Sasha was working on a new song but the problem was, it wasn’t disco.
She brought the song to the attention to her sisters in music but they wrote it off as not their style.
Disappointed and a bit angry at her sisters, Sasha wanted to reinvent herself, but how she do that.
Just then, one of the bus’s tires blew out and they halted on the side of the road.
The group were basically stranded until another bus arrived and the group quickly became bored and irritated.
When Sasha brought up her new song, her sisters became furious and prevented her from playing it.
They forced her out of the bus and closed the doors.
“Come on, girls”
They refused to open the door so Sasha started walking down the road to see if another bus was coming.
Instead, Sasha found a small building with a pole that swirled around.
She was entranced by the pole’s red, white, and blue colors so she looked into the window.
Inside, a girl in a puffy sleeved dress chilled in her barber chair, she noticed the singer and beckoned her in.
Sasha thought for a quick flash and went into the shop.
“What can I do for you, sweetheart”,the hairdresser chirped.
Her figure was slim and clean cut, a pink puffy dress underneath a sleeveless brown gown with a apron overtopping her ensemble. Her glasses were old to spite her young age (about 20 years) and her hair was black and pulled tightly into a topknot.
Sasha was smitten with this gal and she could only blurt out,”I want a haircut”.
“Ok, have a seat and we’ll get started”
Sasha stepped onto the footrest and sat parallel to the mirror.
“miss, please remove your earrings”
“Oh! sorry”,Sasha said, fumbling her ear jewelry.
“Thank you”,said the barberette, flinging a dark grey cape over Sasha’s torso and pulling it up.
She fastened its buttons and rang her hand down the cape to disperse wrinkles.
“Now, what kind of hairstyle would you like, hun”
“Um… well, I am the front woman for a band. And it’s close to the next deca…”
“Oh, I see”,interrupted the barber’s woman,”So you want a new style to reinvent yourself?”
“Uh… I-I-I guess”
“Well, just relax and let mother Ruth treat you to a new you”
Sasha was hesitant about this woman doing her own thing to her hair but she did ask for a change.
First, Ruth teased her fro with a hair pick to fluff up the hair then she grabbed the clippers.
Sasha was screaming in her head as the tool came to life.
With a comb, Ruth pushed back her hairline’s fluff and slowly plowed the clippers into her hair.
She stopped a little ways in and started repeating the path all over her crown.
Big chunks fell onto her shoulders and the checker tiled floor, small balls of fluff found their home on her lap.
Sasha couldn’t believe how short Ruth intended to go, how could she explain this to her sisters.
Her crown was nearly sheared short and Ruth seemed delighted in her work.
Once her top was clippered, Sasha felt like a giant weight was lifted from her scalp but the unfinished product left her looking like a clown.
Ruth tilted Sasha’s head down and took off her backside’s foamy tresses and then she guided the clippers on her sides.
Readjusting her head upright, Sasha looked totally different from her disco days.
Short, kinky fuzz enveloped her dome.
Ruth took a razor and tidied her scalp’s edges and cleaned up her neckline.
“Now, this is chic”,marveled Ruth,”One last thing”.
Ruth grabbed a tiny clipper and instructed Sasha to stay still.
She shaved a slit into Sasha’s brow.
“All done”,said the hairdresser,”What do think, hun?”
Sasha watched her cape being removed and its bits tossed to the floor.
“I look unique”
“Glad to hear you say that”
Sasha ran her fingernails through her small fro and felt cool, clean, and new.
“So, that’ll be 17.59”
“Why so cheap?”
“Oh, please hun, this was an easy style and I don’t charge high prices for beauty cuts like yours”
Sasha felt flattered and she began to blush: Aw, stop it.
“It’s true, dearie. I find your hair type infinitely flexible to any style. Braiding, buzzing, you name it, I can do it to your locks”
Sasha was buttered up by Ruth’s words and demeanor to her craft.
“You have a way with hair”,mused Sasha,”How about you join our tour”.
“Ah, honey, I’ve traveled from Zimbabwean to India and took their talents with me back to the U.S, if anything, I have done too much traveling in my youth”
Just then, the door of the shop opened, her troop stood jaw-dropped
at their head’s new look.
“Good Christ”,said Marigold,”We can’t leave you alone for 5 minutes”.
They were furious at this act of reinvention and called her naive for agreeing to this new style.
For once, Sasha took a stand and said,”I love this haircut. It’s short, cool, and looks hella awesome so you can just deal with it!”
“We won’t have to”,said Greta,”We took a vote and you’re out of the band”.
Sasha was shocked,”You can’t do this, I started this band”.
The girls refused to listen and left saying,”We left your stuff outside”.
Sasha fell to her knees and cried, Ruth seeing this, gave her client a warm towel and brought in her things.
As Sasha wept, Ruth swept the floor and sat in her chair.
“Can you teach me hairdressing?”
Ruth hired Sasha as an apprentice and taught her many cuts.
Her gained talents brought the small ma and pa beauty parlor many high-end clients.
It’s 1979 and the bus rattled along the road.