“Raised on Sweet Tea & Jesus” says the t shirt of the young woman entering the glass door of the beauty shop. I’m sitting in the corner in the only pedicure chair facing out listening to the mixing of hair color and chat of women being themselves, sharing a little life moment. A regular happening for some, an occasional indulgence for others. I’m not sure which I will be although my last paid-for haircut was over a year ago.
Men frequent this place as well. Third one I’ve seen takes a swivel seat, tucks his sunglasses in the top of a gray baseball shirt tee and doffs hit hat. The drape drops around his shoulders, not the typical black or white plastic that catches clippings. No, this one is printed to like a worn, battered American flag.
I tear up just sitting here. How silly am I?
This time is different. I’m here for good. I cannot tell you how great it is to finally be here, not for a visit, not only for a few years and then on to an unknown. This time is different.