Unconditional

Teana

                                                                            "Girl, how's Imani?" My client asked as I was laying her wig cap, getting ready to install her wig she bought from me. I rolled my eyes, I can't stand a nosy bitch.

"Now you know I don't play that messy shit, especially not about gang." I stated, shifting the energy in the room, I love some tea but I never share it with clients. Fortunately the shop was empty today, I don't like checking people in my place of business but I will if a motherfucker get out of line, and that was out of line.

"How your babies doing? I seen them in they matching jumpers the other day! So cute! They getting so big." I didn't want the rest of the appointment to be awkward and I don't have no problem with her, I just be having to keep it professional.

"Thank you girl! Big and grown, ion know what ima do with that girl of mines..." she responded and sounded happy about speaking on her kids too bad I stopped listening and focused in on finishing her hair. The rest of the conversation was filled with "mhm" and "girl!", I just wanted to be done, I got shit to do today.

To be real... I don't know how Imani feels, I can only imagine. It's cliche to say niggas ain't shit, I just feel like women be ignoring the signs,  not just women either; people. As people we ignore the small fuck shit not realizing behind all the small fuck shit is some big fuck shit. From what she told me though, I don't think I would've been able to guess either. Low key the girl reached out to her so she should've looked more into that. Ion trust no bitch, don't get me wrong, but there's always some truth behind what a muhhfucker got to say. She'll be okay though, hopefully she leaves his ass alone.

My shop was painted teal and green, big pretty windows and glass double doors. There was a wall divider between the front reception area and the work stations. Green is my favorite color, for me it's always represented happiness, I remember seeing it every time I was in a tough situation and I was in more of those than I could count. 

"Girl!" My client exclaimed, "you know you be doing your shit with these wigs, you so talented, man!" She was looking in the mirror running her fingers through her hair. I was so in my thoughts I didn't realize how fast I got done with her hair, it was a ready to wear wig and all I had to do was sew and melt it down. 

"Thank you, I'm glad you love it."

After finishing up and seeing her out, I sat in the front of the shop, everyday I'm amazed that this is mine and that I OWN it. Looking around at my shop I felt tears form in my eyes, I've come so far from being raised in house with eight other kids. Life been strenuous on me, I don't know how the fuck I made it through. The oldest of eight, I been raising all of my siblings by myself  since I was nine years old but looking at me now, you would never be able to tell I been through any of that shit. It's seven thirty in the morning and here I am working, the shop doesn't open until nine and I don't plan on being here when it does. 

*knock knock* 

Looking at the door, my face scrunched up. What the fuck he want? 

Every time I'm having a good day here comes this nigga, it's like he can smell my happiness. Getting up to open the door, I could see his goofy ass smiling in excitement causing me to roll my eyes. What the FUCK does he want?