Marty's New 'Do' Part 3: 'Please'

Hello friends. My name is Marty Inouye and I've been through a lot over the past week. I was accosted by an angry hair stylist who took it upon herself to make me look like a runway model (at least she made my hair look that way). I dealt with some horrible dreams that made me question who I was and hide from my best friend Rina. I struggled with my own identity only to find out that Rina actually liked my new 'do'. She even offered to help me “get all done up”. (her words). Jeez... How do I get into these situations?

Right now, though, I'm not in a position to find the answer to that question. You see, it's 3:00 AM and I'm kind of in a hurry to get home and off the street. I alternate between running (but not too fast to give the police something to stop me for) and walking (but not too slow to give the local guys an easy target to harass). The last thing I want to do is get stopped by someone and have to explain the way I look. Did I fail to mention that my hair is done up in a very elaborate french braid? Yep, I look like the older sister from 'Frozen', except my hair is dark brown, I'm Asian, and definitely not a princess. Wanna know how I ended up looking like this? Let me get home and I'll explain. But let's just say that it's all because of the word, 'Please'.

I guess it started a few days ago. I was back in school after having taken Monday off for soul-searching. Rina was with me and despite all that had happened to me, I was feeling pretty all in all good. It was lunchtime, my favorite time of day (except for the end of the day). Rina and I were sitting at out usual table, trying to figure out what was on my plate.

“It might be ham...” I said

“But it's brown.” Rina countered. Then as an abrupt subject change. “So, what time are you coming over Saturday?” “I bought all the things we're gonna need.”

“Things?” I asked. “What things? “Rina, what are you talking about?” I guess I was a little confused.

“You know...”. Rina answered. “Or have you forgotten that you were gonna come over and we were gonna help you get in touch with your 'inner curliness '

Oh, jeez... I'd forgotten about that. “Uh, no...” I stammered. “I hadn't forgotten.” “Saturday night, right?” “You said your folks would be gone all night, right?”

In truth, I was kinda hoping Rina had forgotten the whole thing. I mean, at the time, having Rina do my hair sounded like it might be fun. I was telling the truth when I told Rina that I thought I looked pretty with my salon curls, and Rina did say she liked the way I looked. But the more I thought about it, the worse it sounded.

“You're backing out aren't you?” She pouted. “I was really looking forward to seeing you all done up again...”

“Yeah, well.....” I blushed. “The thing is...”

“Please....” She whispered. “I promise I won't hurt you.” I've never been able to refuse when my best friend says 'Please'. The government could weaponize that 'Please' and use it to disarm terrorists or rivsl nations or something. It's a combination of the word, and the way her eyes get all warm and the way that she kinda bites her lower lip when she says it. I dare you to say 'No' to that combination.

I gave in to that 'Please' and hours later found myself on Rina front step at 7:00. With shaking hands, I rang the bell. My best friend met me at the door with a broad smile and a slight blush. “Come in ... Come in” She chimed. “Welcome to Marina's House of Style”. (Cute, right? ) She took my arm and said, “Follow me please...”

We walked though the foyer back to the kitchen, all the while she chatted on. “I'm so glad you made an appointment with us.” “You're gonna love what we do to you here.” She pointed to a high-backed kitchen chair and said. Please have a seat and we'll get started in just a bit.”

She fished a brown bottle from a the fridge and opened it. “Since this is your first visit to our salon, you might be a little aprehensive.” “That's why we've provided a little something to help you relax and enjoy yourself.” She smiled as she poured a glass for me and for herself. We clinked glasses and drank.

I'm not a big drinker. I hardly drin k at all. But my nerves got the best of me and I took a sip. (OK a big sip!) The wine tasted bitter and it burned going down, but I did feel a little more relaxed. Mission accomplished.

Rina took my hand and and pulled me over to the kitchen sink. “Lean down for me if you would.” She gestured. “And we'll get started.”

“You're gonna wash my hair in the sink?” I asked slightly disappointed.

“What?” Rina sniped. “Would you rather have me do it in a fancy porcelain sink like your friend at Salon Spice did?” “While I'm at it, maybe I suppose you want me to wear one of those pretty little uniforms like she wore.”

I cringed at the thought of Rina dressed like my Stern Stylist. It reminded me too much of my dream. “No, Angel...” I said. “The sink here is just fine.”

I leaned over the sink and let Rina do her stuff. The warm water felt good as she hosed down my long hair. The shampoo smelled of flowers and Rina's fingers were magic as she worked my hair into a bubbly lather. I was rinsed and given a cream rinse “to prevent split ends”

Rina wrapped my wet locks in a towel so it kinda looked like a turban. Then she led me back to her room and sat me down in front of her mirror. I looked at my reflection. “Am I really gonna let her do this?” I thought. Sensing my panic, Rina offered me another drink and said. You're scared. I understand that. “ “The last time someone did this to you, it was in anger.” “Marty, there's no anger here.” She smiled. “Just friends having fun.”

“To be honest,” She added as she tilted her glass back and drank. “I'm kinda nervous about all this too.” “This is gonna be hard for you to believe, but I'm kinda new to all this girly-girl stuff.” My 'bestie' is kind of a 'tomboy'.

“But you do know what you're doing, right?” I asked uneasily as I gazed at the tray of rollers, gels and other things I didn't recognize. I imagined myself going to school on Monday with a poodle perm and asked. “This is gonna be temporary, right?”

“Of course it's temporary, Marty.” She assured me. “Now hand me a roller

As my best friend unwrapped the turban from my hair and went to work, she explained. “These are called 'sponge rollers', Marty.” “My mom uses these on my Gram-Gram all the time.”

“Great...” I thought. “I'm gonna have Grandma hair”.

“Now another...” Rina ordered and began to roll another hair strand. “And another...” “Try to keep up.”. This process went on until Rina had my head covered with the yellow plastic sponge rollers. The curlers looked and felt different than the ones that Stern Stylist used on me. They seemed, I don't know... looser?  Friendlier?  Maybe it was my imagination (or the wine), but the roll-up didn't seem to hurt as much as it did at Salon Spice. Maybe Rina was right. “No anger here, just friends having fun”

Rina's then hauled out a strange looking machine and set it on the table. It had a hose sticking out of one end and looked for all the world like a Shop Vac and a food processor had a baby. “OK... “ What the hell is that? I asked. Machines kinda give me the 'willies', sometimes

“It's a hair dryer, silly...” She said. “It's Gram-Gram's.” “Since I don't have hair dryers built into chairs like they do at Salon Spice, I thought I'd make do. This bonnet thing goes over your head. The hose goes in this end...” Rina instructed. “I turn it on, and Bingo, your hair gets dry” “And no, Marty... It isn't gonna hurt.” “Now will you sit down and let me do this." "Please??”.  There goes that word again.

She slipped the 'bonnet' over the curlers , turned on the heat and set a timer for 30 minutes to let my curls dry completely. The sound was deafening as the warm air of the dryer engulfed my head. The experience gave the word, 'airhead' a whole new meaning as the hot air inflated the bonnet. I felt like my head was trapped in a big bubble. Rina giggled as she took another picture. She was really enjoying this.

The combination of the heat from the hairdryer and the wine (I guess) started to make me drowsy. I think I nodded off for awhile, but was awakened abruptly by my best friend pulling my shoes and socks off. “Hey Rina...” I said with a yawn. “What are you doing?

“I got bored waiting for the timer to go off so I painted my nails.” She explained. “Now I wanna paint yours.”

“Oh no...” I protested. “No way.” “It's one thing to put my hair up in curlers, but I draw the line at someone painting my nails.” (Looking back I realize the ridiculousness of that statement). “This is getting a little out of hand.” I said.

“Oh come on, Marty...” She smiled. “It's just a little harmless nail polish. “It won't hurt or anything.”

And then she said it. “Please... Just let me paint them” (Cue the warm eyes). But it wasn't gonna work this time. There was no way I was giving in. (Send in the slight lip biting).

Coral pink was the shade of the polish. Rina said that color would 'compliment my skin tone'. OK, I caved... I told you. I dare you to say 'no' to Rina when she says 'please'. Rina placed a set of foam rubber 'separators' between each my toes and applied the polish. She gave my nails, not one coat, not two coats, but three coats of polish, my fingernails too... Then she applied something she called a sealant to protect the polish from chipping. Rina took several pictures of my new nails to add to her collection. Yeah... pretty powerful word, 'Please'.

The timer finally went off. Rina removed my rolled up hair from it's plastic bubble prison. She started to remove the curlers from my hair, one by one, apparently please by the result.

“Wow...” She said with pride. “You turned out great”. Rina ran her fingers through my curls lifting them and fluffing them. I stole a look at my reflection, “Yep...” I thought. It's official...” “I'm fluffy again.”. Funny thing, though. It didn't seem so bad seeing my self with fluffy hair this time. Maybe Rina was right. Maybe it was because it was done by a friend. Or maybe I was getting used to seeing myself like this.

She tugged and combed and teased my curls for what seemed like hours. With the help of a big barrel curling iron, she arranged my hair into a loose wave, parted to one side and almost covering my left eye. My bangs, she curled under so that they almost formed a shelf over my forehead on the right side. Lots of hairspray, a picture or two and she stood back to admire her work. “God, you look good.” She told me as she kissed me. “I should do this for a living.”

“Now lets try something else.” She smiled as she lifted my curls and piled them on the top of my head except for two strands of hair on either side of my temples. These she carefully curled with the iron. Several bobby pins and a half a can of Aqua-Net later and she pronounced me done. “There...” She giggled. “All ready for Prom”. She called it an 'updo'. “Just the thing for an elegant night out.” She said as she took yet another picture

I laughed and turned my head back and forth feeling the twin tendrils tickle my cheeks. I guess I was starting to enjoy it too. I wanted to blame it on the wine, but I knew better. I blushed at the thought of looking like a Prom Queen. “This has been fun.” I admitted.

“Has been fun?” Rina said. “You make it sound like we're finished...” She said as she gathered up her trusty brush, curling iron, and spray bottle of water. Then she said. “Sweetie, we're just getting started.”

My hair was brushed and pulled back into a ponytail high up on my head. “This is for when you wanna look casual, but still pretty”.  Rina said as she tied the ponytail off with pink 'scrunchy'. Then she sprayed the tail with more Aqua Net and with her curling iron, she twirled the tail into one big bouncy, spiral curl. I could hear my hair 'sizzle' as the curling iron worked it's magic. “Cute” She proclaimed.

Using the spray bottle, Rina wet my hair down, then combed my hair out straight. She curled the ends of my hair under and gave me some bangs “Mom told me that she wore her hair like this in college.” Rina confided. “But I think it look better on you.” . More pictures, more wine, please

My head was spinning., as I was given pigtails tied off with ribbons, (“for those all-important cheerleader try-outs”, Rina giggled), and then sausage curls, because Rina always liked “how they bounce”.

Running out of hairstyles and getting giggly from the wine, Rina patted the floor in front of her. “Sit down, Marty” She blushed. “I'm gonna try something.” I sat with my back to my friend as she attempted to braid my hair. “Mom used to put my hair up in one of these when I was a little girl”.

It took Rina several attempts, but she finally succeeded in giving me proper French Braid. “It's also called a 'twin waterfall'.” I was told. My hair was done in two larger braids on each side of my head that were sort of folded into a central braid down my back. She finished the braid off with a tiny red bow. “Perfect” She said as she kissed the top my my head. She took two more pictures, or at least that's what i remember before I fell asleep. OK, for future reference, I can't hold my wine.

The next thing I remember was Rina shaking me awake. “Marty...” She whispered in a panic. “You gotta get up.” “My folks are home”

“But you said they'd be gone all night.”

“I know, but look...” She panicked. “It's 2:30”

That woke me up fast. “OK, I'm outta here.” I said as I jumped to my feet. And grabbed my shoes and socks. Rina's parents like me and all, but the sight of me with my hair done up in a lovely french braid might be hard to explain. I made my way over to Rina's window. Once out the window I'd creep down to the part of her roof that overhangs the garage and make my way home.

“Hey Marty...” Rina said in a whisper as I slipped out the window. "This was fun, wasn't it?“

"Yeah..."   I admitted.  "It was"

"Maybe next time you come over we could try something different...” She blushed

“Something different?” I asked in a whisper.

“Yeah, you know....” She blushed and held up a pair of her panties. “Something different”.

Before I could respond, she grinned. “Please??”

Sometimes I really hate that word