Louboutin. It seems like the names stretched for miles. This is when I realize that I am getting ready to earn each and every free pedicure and manicure I had ever received. I sighed grabbed the first box and got started. While I do that, I’m wondering how such small bottles can be so heavy, I see B on the other side of the salon putting up some beautifully framed pictures of previous manicures she had done. They were absolutely breath taking.
“B, did you have a photographer take and frame your work for you? Because those are gorgeous! I like the fact that you used your work and didn’t resort to using the same boring generic photos all the other shops use.”
“Now you know I was NOT gonna be well with that. I would have left my walls bare before I did that. I can’t just go to Wal-Mart or Ye Olde Salon Picture Emporium or whatever and pick up the standard photo of some white chick’s hands from 1973, with that weak-ass French manicure and that single red rose.” We bust out laughing thinking about how many salons have that exact photo. It was like you had to have one of those to open a shop.
The salon falls quiet for a while as we both get engrossed in our chores. However, the silence is broken when the salon phone begins to ring. Brazille climbed down off the ladder and runs up to the receptionist area bare foot. She picks up the receiver and I hear her say “Good morning! Are you coming to get Polished by Brazille today?” I smile as I hear the joy in her voice and that big beautiful smile she always displays when she’s genuinely happy. I was about to turn back around and continue to put nail polishes on the rack, or find some way to sneak off with those Jimmy Choos that Brazille left laying over there, when I see her face become frowned up, her smile quickly disappear and her eyes fills up with tears. I drop the polishes back in the box and began quickly walking up to the front of the salon.
“B who is that?! What is wrong? Oh my God! Why are you crying?” Just as I get to the receptionist area I reach my hand out to grab the receiver Brazille slams the receiver down into its cradle and just stares at the phone.
Chapter 3: Havoc
I sit in the café across from this bitch little nail shop, wondering if she realizes yet that I am not playing with her. It’s okay if she doesn’t though because I am going to tear her life apart slowly and painfully until I decide it is time for me to take her life from her. After what she did and all of the drama she’s caused, I have to make her pay the ultimate price, with her life, which is what I told her before she hung up on me.
She is over there in her fancy new shop prancing around in her purple jumpsuit and heels, acting like she is such the good girl and business woman. Well, she won’t look like that when I get finished with her.
It took me a while to figure out how I was going to make her pay and honestly I am still putting things in place for the big day but I’m happy with what I’ve done so far. I put the plan in motion this morning with the first phone call.
I was shocked at how easy today’s social media made it for me to find out where Brazille was. I was able to get where she lives, where she went to school, her salon location , who her friends are and recreational activities all online. Honestly Brazille spoon fed me a lot of the details I personally needed. This thought made me grin from ear to ear. It was now time for me to start reaping the benefits of a job well done. Brazille was going to be surprised at all the information I had on her.
I decided to make a morning of the “Brazille English Show”, so I ordered a bacon and egg croissant sandwich and a large black coffee.
As I looked into the salon it looks as though my little phone call swallowed up all the serenity that was previously in the shop because it now appeared that Brazille and her nosey best friend were having a disagreement. If I had to guess I would say that
“B, did you have a photographer take and frame your work for you? Because those are gorgeous! I like the fact that you used your work and didn’t resort to using the same boring generic photos all the other shops use.”
“Now you know I was NOT gonna be well with that. I would have left my walls bare before I did that. I can’t just go to Wal-Mart or Ye Olde Salon Picture Emporium or whatever and pick up the standard photo of some white chick’s hands from 1973, with that weak-ass French manicure and that single red rose.” We bust out laughing thinking about how many salons have that exact photo. It was like you had to have one of those to open a shop.
The salon falls quiet for a while as we both get engrossed in our chores. However, the silence is broken when the salon phone begins to ring. Brazille climbed down off the ladder and runs up to the receptionist area bare foot. She picks up the receiver and I hear her say “Good morning! Are you coming to get Polished by Brazille today?” I smile as I hear the joy in her voice and that big beautiful smile she always displays when she’s genuinely happy. I was about to turn back around and continue to put nail polishes on the rack, or find some way to sneak off with those Jimmy Choos that Brazille left laying over there, when I see her face become frowned up, her smile quickly disappear and her eyes fills up with tears. I drop the polishes back in the box and began quickly walking up to the front of the salon.
“B who is that?! What is wrong? Oh my God! Why are you crying?” Just as I get to the receptionist area I reach my hand out to grab the receiver Brazille slams the receiver down into its cradle and just stares at the phone.
Chapter 3: Havoc
I sit in the café across from this bitch little nail shop, wondering if she realizes yet that I am not playing with her. It’s okay if she doesn’t though because I am going to tear her life apart slowly and painfully until I decide it is time for me to take her life from her. After what she did and all of the drama she’s caused, I have to make her pay the ultimate price, with her life, which is what I told her before she hung up on me.
She is over there in her fancy new shop prancing around in her purple jumpsuit and heels, acting like she is such the good girl and business woman. Well, she won’t look like that when I get finished with her.
It took me a while to figure out how I was going to make her pay and honestly I am still putting things in place for the big day but I’m happy with what I’ve done so far. I put the plan in motion this morning with the first phone call.
I was shocked at how easy today’s social media made it for me to find out where Brazille was. I was able to get where she lives, where she went to school, her salon location , who her friends are and recreational activities all online. Honestly Brazille spoon fed me a lot of the details I personally needed. This thought made me grin from ear to ear. It was now time for me to start reaping the benefits of a job well done. Brazille was going to be surprised at all the information I had on her.
I decided to make a morning of the “Brazille English Show”, so I ordered a bacon and egg croissant sandwich and a large black coffee.
As I looked into the salon it looks as though my little phone call swallowed up all the serenity that was previously in the shop because it now appeared that Brazille and her nosey best friend were having a disagreement. If I had to guess I would say that
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