Sara-ology

Chapter 4

**Flashback **

"Sara! Come on, wake up! I have to go open up!" I can hear my mom bellow from the bottom of the stairs.

Ugh! Saturdays are the worst! Of course, I don't have school on the busiest day of the week! I squeeze my pillow over my head in the hopes that it will drown out my mom and make the night come faster. No dice.

Saturdays are when everyone comes to my mom's salon consistently throughout the day. No breaks! And today is actually going to be busier than usual. The homecoming dance is tonight. Of course, I'm not going! No one asked me. But all the girls from my school have appointments at the best salon in the county.

That just so happens to belong to my mom.

I know I'll have to help out. My mom and her small staff have some difficulty dealing with the sharp influx of customers when events like this arise. Even though I work every weekend, I am especially dreading going in today.

I've been anticipating the treatment I'm going to get for weeks. These girls' parents have never respected my mom. Why would they respect me?

It's easier to handle the distant stares and whispers in school, but it's much more difficult when it's my job to wait on my peers.

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When we arrive at the salon, the first thing I do is check the bookings. My first client is okay. Amanda Stoger. I had history with her last year. I don't really know her that well, but she never went out of her way to gossip about me. I skim the list until I find the name that I am dreading to see, which is, of course, lined up with my 3:00 spot. Oh goody!

Addison Leigh, along with her posse of brainwashed wannabes, always made an extra effort to make everyone hate me. It sounds cliche, I know, but that just angers me more. She couldn't even break the mold of a classic high school evil prom queen mean girl. She's awful. She's the genius behind the more popular kids at school calling me "The Help," for literally no reason.

I've learned that it comes with the territory. There's always been a stigma with people in the service industry. Everyone in my small town just adds fuel to the fire of each other's stereotypical ideologies.

Cosmetologists, or "hairdressers" as we are disdainfully recognized, are stupid, ditzy women who never got into college. In reality, this is not true at all. But a closed-minded person cannot be made to change their irrational beliefs.

I had never resented my mother's profession. She chose to be a cosmetologist because she loved it. She was passionate about her art.

By the way, cosmetology is an art. There are even shows and competitions dedicated to showcasing the stylists' talent. It's a pretty lucrative industry.

But in Wallace County, no one looks beyond my mom's quaint salon. Now if she had still owned her salon in the city, that would be a different story. Her line of work is an integral part of the city's glamorous image. But in my small, rural town, that means nothing.

My mom never really cared. At least, she wouldn't tell me it bothered her. She is the kind of person that doesn't get affected by the rude glares in the supermarket. She is too strong and has always had a lot of confidence. On top of that, she's a people-person. I'm not. Specifically when it comes to being extra nice to obnoxious and egotistical customers. My mom always tells me to just, "kill them with kindness," and thank God, I haven't cracked yet.

I guess it's kind of stupid once you think about it. The same people that look down upon us, pay us to make them feel beautiful. Ironic, isn't it?

No one ever acknowledges that, yet that's the whole point of the profession. At least, that's one of the things my mom loves the most about it. She loves to make everyone around her feel good about themselves. Many people don't realize how much it can really change a person's entire mindset when they have a boost in self-esteem. And you can't put a price on that.