Marty's New Job Part 2

Hello friends...  Martina here.  Wait?  You don't know why I'm calling myself Martina these days?  Where have you been?  You didn't know that I was blackmailed into posing as the receptionist at Salon Spice?  You didn't know I've been dressing 'en femme' and   passing myself off as a girl for the past few days?  Really??  You know what?   It's OK.  Rina doesn't know anything about this either and let's just say I'd like to keep it that way.  

But for the sake of those who are out of the loop, let me catch you up.  Several weeks ago, I agreed to accompany my best friend Rina to a beauty salon for a new do.   Afraid of how her hair might turn out, she didn't want to go alone. She’s my best friend so, naturally I went with her.  And because I couldn't keep my mouth shut at the salon, I ended up with a new 'do' as well.  

I was so embarrassed with my curly-headed appearance, and even more embarrassed that I kinda liked how I looked with curls, I hid out from the only person who might understand how I felt.  Yeah, you guessed it.  I almost drove my best friend away.  But Rina's exile was short-lived, as I confessed everything to her and she even helped me get in touch with my 'inner curliness'.  We spent a Saturday night drinking lots of wine, doing my hair up in various styles and taking a load of pictures.  

Confused yet?  Wait...  there's more.  The aforementioned pictures found their way into the hands of Miss Edie (formerly known as Stern Stylist).  She used the pictures and the threat of internet shaming to get me to fill in for her receptionist who was on vacation.  At first it was hell, but soon I got the hang of it.  I was passing myself as a girl and amazingly enough, succeeding.  So good bye Marty, and hello (OK, temporarily, anyway) Martina.

But there's one thing, though...  Rina doesn't know, so don't tell her, OK?  She's on a family vacation and has missed all this.  I'd just as soon as keep it that way.  I mean I don't know how she'd react to all this. You see, ever since she did my hair (over and over again!), she's had this obsession with making me into “Drag Queen Marty”.  And I just don't think I'm ready for that yet.

I know...  It sounds funny coming from a guy dressed as a “Salon Spice Girl”.  But this is different.  I was blackmailed.  I had to go through with this to save my reputation.  So, OK...  Now you're caught up.  Let's get ready for work.

I start my day with a long hot shower and to save myself from the agony of having my leg hairs individually plucked by the God-awful stretch pants, I've taken to shaving my legs.  Hey don't judge...  It just much less painful wearing those pants when I have silky smooth legs.  At least I don't do the 'Big Shave'. (That's what Rina would call it).  I want to keep some hair, you know...  down there.  I then wash my hair and condition it.  The conditioner is to keep my hair from becoming too brittle from all the processing it's going through.  “I can't have my pretty receptionist with split ends, can I?”  Miss Edie says.  “No Miss Edie...”  I say, resigned.  “You can't”.

I never do anything to my hair at home.  That's left up to the other stylists at Spice.  I'm like a practice dummy for the girls.  They get to experiment on my hair, and I get to sit with my mouth closed and hope it's not too embarrassing.  I have to admit, it’s actually fun at times.  OK, just between you and me, it’s more than fun! It’s a blast having someone fuss over my hair like that.  It makes me feel, you know… pretty.  (Yeah, OK…  I said it).  I can see why girls spend so much time getting ready for Prom and stuff like that.  

Yesterday, before we opened, a stylist named Audra attacked my wet locks with a vent brush and a blow dryer.  She gave me soft waves with fluffy bangs, then froze place it all in place with lots of Aqua Net.  Audra told me she saw the style in a old magazine.   It was called the Farrah Fawcett look.  She also said that the customers would love it.  She said that the look was big in the 70s.  Like I'd know anything about the 70s...

She was right, though.  The customers did love it.  (And so did I.)  I got so many compliments as I moved across the salon floor, my waves flowing behind me, tickling my ears.  (Am I really writing this?)  “Darling...”  One lady cooed.  “It's so retro!”  “I love it”.  Cue Martina's blush and giggle.  “Thanks so much Mrs. Hildebrand.”  “Maybe we could get Audra to do you up the same way.”  Now it was Mrs. H's turn to blush and giggle.  See...  Don’t worry about me.  I've got this under control.

But back to my day.  I walk from my house to Spice all wet haired and dressed up like the proper Spice Girl that I am.  It’s a long walk, sure, but better taking that long walk than risking having someone recognize me if I take the bus.  The worst part is walking past that construction site on Warnell Road.  Those guys can be crude at times.   I wonder if they’d say all those things if they knew I was a boy although it would be hard to convince them considering how I look. I mean look at me.  I’m kinda thin, not too tall and have long, blondish hair, thanks to my recent perm.  I’m even dressed like a girl!  The bodyshaper I’m forced to wear gives me feminine curves and cleavage. The ‘shaper’ and the stretch pants make me it look as though I’m wearing a thong.  (OK, the crude comments kinda make sense now that I think about it)  

I made the mistake of wearing my heels for the long walk once. Big mistake!  My calves were so sore I was practically in tears.  I noticed the other girls wore tennis shoes or flats and changed into heels at the Salon, so I decided to give it a try myself.  I raided Mom’s closet trying to find something that I could make the walk in.  I rummaged past heels, some higher than the ones I wore at work, pumps, stiletto heels, open toed sandals, even a pair of red, clunky platform heels Mom must have worn back when she was in college.  God, they looked funny!  With shaking hands I started to slip one of them on.  What would it hurt if I just tried them on, right?  But then I remembered that this is usually the time in those stories when the Mom or the girlfriend, or worse yet when the male roommate would come in and catch the poor guy.  I dropped the heels like they were on fire. I still needed shoes though so I finally decided on some pink floral sandal-like shoes (strappy sandals, I was told later).  Comfortable, yes, but they didn’t match my pants.  

My boss, Miss Edie, it turns out is a pretty reasonable person to work for. I mean if you can look past the feminization and blackmail, sure.  I get two fifteen minute breaks and an hour lunch like the other girls.  She tells me what a good job I’ve done at the end of the day and get this, I’m even getting paid!  I mean, if it wasn’t for the whole Martina persona I’m forced to adopt, then this would be a pretty choice job!  Miss Edie doesn’t even make fun of me anymore.  That’s the job of the other girls at the salon.  

Two days ago, one of the stylists called me over to her station.  “Sweetie…”  She grinned.  “Could I get you to do something for me?”  She asked sweetly.  Wanting to fit in, I said.  “Sure…”  I said as my heels clicked across the floor.  “How can I help?”

“This is Mr. Kennedy.”  Nikki told me.  “I’m supposed to give him a cut, but I need a little break.”  “Could you wash his hair for me?”  She asked almost laughing out loud.

“But, I can’t…”  I stammered.  “I mean, I never.”  

“Oh come on, Martina…”  Nikki persisted.  “It’s just a shampoo.”  “It’s not that hard,  and besides, the way he’s checking you out, I think he’d rather have you do it anyway.”  

“Wait,”   I thought.  “He’s checking me out?”  Before I could say (or do) anything, Nikki dragged me over to her client.  “Sorry hun…”  She explained.  “I need to step out for a minute.”   “This is Martina, one of our new employees.”  Nikki said as she presented me.  “Isn’t she cute?”  “She’s gonna  get you started.”  

“Hi, I’m Tony.”  He smiled and extended a hand.  “How are you?”  

“Um…  I’m Martina.”  I told him blushing.   I leaned his chair back and began to shampoo his hair.  
“That’s a pretty name.”  He said making me blush.  God, I hate that

“This is my first time here, but I’m thinking that with all these pretty lasses working here,”   He continued.  “I might have to make this my regular place.”

“Yes, sir”.  I answered.  

Have you been working here long, Martina?”  My new client asked.  

“No sir…”  I answered.  “Not long at all.”  

“Hey…”  He chuckled.  “You don’t have to be so formal.”  “Just call me ‘Tony’”.  

“OK, Um…Tony.”  I said.  “I’m just filling in for one of the girls while she’s away.”  

“So when she gets back, you’ll be gone?”  He asked with a slight pout.  “That’s too bad.”  “That means I’ll never see you again.”  

“Jesus…”  I thought.  “He’s hitting on me.”  So I leaned in and continued working the shampoo into a lather.  “Just finish the job and you’ll be rid of him.”  I thought.  It was then, I glanced in a nearby mirror and noticed how I was standing.  Not wanting him to find out my secret, I had been keeping my distance which was difficult since I had to actually touch him to shampoo his hair.  The whole thing made me stand with my legs together, my ‘curvy’ butt jutting out behind me and my chest sticking out and hovering over his face.  “God…”  I thought.  “It looks like I’m coming on to this guy”.  The other girls took notice of my posture and giggled.  Christ, will this day ever end?

With Mr. Kennedy, I mean ‘Tony’ shampooed and ready for his haircut, I slinked back to the break room.  I was so embarrassed I thought I might cry.  I just wanted the day to end.  I busied myself with the other aspects of my job, answering phones, serving coffee and avoiding my fellow employees’ taunts.  

Nikki came over to me after Tony had gone and handed me something.  It was a 20 dollar bill.  “Here”.  She snickered as she handed me the money.  “This is a tip from your new boyfriend”.  “I guess he liked that little show you put on for him earlier.”  “You’re such a little tease”

“I wasn’t trying to…”  I started, but then stopped in mid-sentence.  It was no use trying to explain it.  Anything I said would only add to my embarrassment and add to Nikki’s enjoyment of my predicament.  

End of my shift and I walked home, twenty dollars richer and very confused.  I was so preoccupied with the events of the day that I didn’t even hear the catcalls of my construction crew as I walked past. I wasn’t putting on a show for Tony…  I did accept the money, sure, but I’m not a tease…  I mean I don’t have an interest in guys like Tony or any guy for that matter.   OK... There was that one time during my sophomore year, but that was only the one time.  

I walked up the steps to my house and collapsed on the couch.  I kicked off my flats and put me feet up, staring off into space.  I stared at my toes, the nails covered in “Love That Red” nail polish.  What was happening to me?  

Later, I made dinner and ate it in a fog.  I wandered upstairs to my room and slumped on my bed.  I wasn’t angry, just confused and a little turned on.  I had to admit, it was a little exciting to think that Tony might think I was attractive, or that my construction crew thought I was a ‘hottie’.  But I was still a guy and that’s where the confusion came from.  I needed to talk to someone.  Sadly, the only person I could talk to was miles away right now and I wasn’t even sure how she’d handle all this.  I thought of emailing her, but figured that what I needed to tell her was best said in person.  I was just gonna have to wait for my best friend to come home.  Hurry Rina…