Good Morning Gentle Readers,
In the days of my vagrant yoot there was a shopping center across the street from Pacifica High School. Dottie's Beauty Salon was to the right, just before you plowed through the double glass electric automatically opening doors of the long-gone supermarket that is now condos. If you glanced inside on your way by, which we instinctively tried not to do, you could see those women. Hands animated, waving in the air. Smoking, snipping, gassing about the neighbors, and who was sleeping with who's husband.
The doors seemed like they were always open, leaking cigarette smoke and chemicals now banned by the ever-vigilant EPA. Dottie was the good looking red-headed southerner, but I didn’t know which one she was at the time. Later on I knew her because I knew her daughter Viv (who did not go to Pacifica). Viv was a fargin’ 10 (kid you not, man) in her day and is still pretty decent looking, even though she’s almost as old as El Jeronimo de Crow.
Dottie's is still around, too, down on Garden Grove Blvd I think, but it’s a mere shadow of its former glory. No faux Grecian urns, no web site, no potted palms just some hangers-on, clientèle that like things the way they once were.
Vivian left a tearful voicemail today, mama passed yesterday.
Just a little piece of our lives, boys, forever and unchangeable......
Rest easy, Ma'am.
Joe (and Viv). Our thoughts are with you.
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