She glares at me. “Shut up. I don’t make fun of you when you don’t know who Lord British is. Or Captain Crunch.”
“I know what Cap’n Crunch is.”
“Not the cereal,” she hisses at me.
“Okay, okay.” I try not to roll my eyes. “What is Captain Crunch?”
“Not what. Who!” Reb’s eyes glint with a fanatical excitement. “Captain Crunch was one of the original phone phreaks. Like a proto-hacker. The man himself, John Draper, is considered problematic, but haven’t all famous men from the seventies disappointed us over and over again?”
I feel a little like maybe this conversation is treading a little close to Reb's perennially disappointing father, but decide it’s better not to jab a finger directly into the bullet wound that’s her relationship with her dad.
Thankfully, Thea interrupts before I need to respond.
“Girls,” Thea chides. “Is this really the time?”
Even Rafe looks annoyed. Which, given what he’s being paid per hour, I don’t think is fair.
Reb points an accusing finger at me. “She started it.”
Rafe clears his throat. “Luckily, I have heard of Cameron Diaz. And yes, I can do that.” He runs his fingers once more through my hair and gives a satisfied nod. “And you will finally be magnificent.”
Once again, he is using his theatrical “Haircut of Destiny” voice. This will be the one haircut to rule them all.
But who am I to criticize? I create imagined drama all the time to get my work done. I can hardly blame the guy if he does the same.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I say with what I hope is conviction and excitement. “I’m ready for my ‘Haircut of Destiny’.”
Thea, Rafe, and Reb all stare at me blankly.
I blink. Then realize I said that out loud.
Cool. Yep.
I wave a hand dismissively, like they’re the weird ones. “That’s w-what I named it in my head. Because that’s what it feels like. You know, like a big deal. And since Rafe keeps using his sexy wizard voice, I thought ...” I let my voice trail off as I realize that their blank looks aren’t getting less blank.
I clear my throat, smile brightly, and pretend I haven’t been babbling. “What next?”
Things move quickly after that. Or rather, the people around me move quickly. I mostly just sit there, answering important questions like, “How is the temperature?” and “Can I refill your champagne?”
Yes, this salon is that kind of place. A place that serves champagne in the middle of the afternoon. And, yes, that’s how nervous I am. I am drink-champagne-before-five nervous. Which is saying something, since I normally only drink champagne on New Year’s Eve.
Other than sipping champagne, my job is to sit still. Early on, Thea spills the beans about why I’m getting the makeover. Before I know it, everyone in the salon is emotionally invested. Reb has been documenting the transformation and sending pictures to Felicia, the stylist who will meet us at Downtown UpThreads. She also pulls up some documentary about hackers from what she calls the “Golden Age of Hackers,” but thirty minutes in, Rafe declares he can’t work under these circumstances and insists I switch to watching makeup tutorials.
Reb pulls some up for me. I’m skeptical, since she’s the one who didn’t know who Cameron Diaz is, but the videos teach me a few things. I doubt I’ll be able to replicate any of these techniques, but I’m willing to try.
Four hours later, I look like a whole new person, but I’m too hungry to care. I demand Thea and Reb feed me tacos before we go shopping. Dorothea has known me long enough to know that I never joke about needing a taco, so instead of heading straight over to Downtown UpThreads, we swing by my favorite taco joint. Two tacos later, I feel emotionally prepared for the wardrobe makeover. Emotionally, but perhaps not financially.
Downtown UpThreads is just south of the river in a neighborhood with a trendy, funky vibe. It’s nestled between a tattoo parlor and a record store. The fact that I didn’t know record stores were a thing again is probably a sign I’m not cool enough to shop here.
Based on the look I get when I walk in, the clerk behind the counter clearly agrees, but Thea announces that Felicia is expecting us. The clerk sniffs doubtfully, but heads to the back to find Felicia.
Thankfully, since Downtown UpThreads is a consignment store, I can afford to shop here. Unfortunately, I usually shop at thrift stores. And not the trendy ones, either. We’re talking Goodwill and Savers. So even heavily discounted, everything still seems overpriced to me.
When I say this, Thea just waves away my objections.
“Of course, these things are more expensive than your normal potato sacks. If you want a decent wardrobe, pay for it.”
“My wardrobe has been just fine until now.”
