The book came out on the 4th September and I will be posting my review later today.
5.
The Hair Psychologist
I held my breath
until I reached the taxi rank. Once I flagged an incoming taxi, I
managed to relax and do a
big old evil belly laugh. I pictured JJ finishing the bottle of chardonnay,
ordering another perhaps
even more expensive wine. He’d eat my main meal, then his. Then it would dawn on
him. I was not coming back. He would have to leave his fake Prada
sunglasses as
collateral and make some
frantic phone calls for cash to get out of there with any shred of
dignity.
The taxi pulled
up, and I jumped in without taking any notice of the
driver’s details. I was too distracted picturing JJ’s handsome face trying to
explain to Alberto why he couldn’t pay. Then, JJ takes Alberto’s
soft manicured fingers in his strong warm hand, and convinces him
he could pay in other ways. Alberto’s eyes light up and he kisses...
eww, hang on. Damn it! That’s not the right fantasy. Bloody
cheating bisexual men. It’s rife around here, I’m telling
you.
I shook the image
from my mind and glanced at the registration of the driver. I began to text it
to my mum when a distinctive voice pipes up and says, “So, how was lunch,
love?”
You’ve got to be
friggin’ kidding me. Beer belly Bob. Of all the luck.
“I was left
unsatisfied, if you must know, Bob.”
“Boy trouble,
love?”
“You could say
that.”
“What’s the trouble?
He’s not a vegetarian too, is he?”
“Hmmm, I’m not sure
how to answer that, Bob. I’ve heard lesbians described as vegetarians, so does the same
apply to straight men that turn gay, then straight, then almost
definitely gay
again?”
“You’ve got me there,
love. I have no idea. So, your boyfriend’s gay?”
“Yes. He’s gay and
the only slot he is interested in is the one that swipes my credit
card.”
Beer belly Bob looked
slightly shocked, but managed to change the subject back to himself, like most
good cabbies do. “So, I called my sheil - I mean Val - like I told you I was
gonna. I’m all set to take her out to this Indian vego place tonight. I was
thinking of buying her some flowers
and maybe some chocolates.”
“Great.”
“Yeah. I thought I
might get a hotel room, you know, with a spa. Get some of that non-alcoholic
champagne she loves.”
Ew. Go away naked
mental picture of Bob in the bath.
“Yeah, then I thought
I’d surprise her and scatter rose petals all over the bed, you know, all
romantic-like.”
“You’re very
original, Bob. Did you think of that all by yourself?”
“No, love. I wish.
Saw it on a movie.”
I just wanted to get
home, but it’s the saint in me, I tell you. I had to, something
literally forced me to. “Bob,
what are you planning on wearing tonight?”
“Well, my birthday
suit eventually,” cue disgusting bawdy laugh.
Another mental picture I’ll
need erased by regression therapy.
“To the date, Bob.
What are you planning on wearing on your date?”
“Oh, I’ll just chuck
a shirt on over this one I think, love. Maybe spray on a bit of Old
Spice.”
Aptly named.
Old.
“Hmm. I was thinking,
Bob, you really need a new look. You look like a truck driver that’s been on the
road. For a few months. With sheep. Who have fleas.”
“A new look? Val
likes me just as I am.”
“I bet she makes you
take a shower before she kisses you. Am I right?”
He narrowed his
bloodshot eyes at me.
“I bet she bought you
a ‘special’ toothbrush just for her house. Am I right?”
“Well, yeah, but
that’s only ‘cause...”
“I bet she came to
your house only the once and has never been back. Am I right?”
He hung his head and
said, “Yes. You’re right.”
It’s like I have a
gift. I had to help him. For the sake of his poor girlfriend.
“Right, Bob. I’m very
busy you know. Stop at these shops here. Bring your credit card and let’s
go.”
Bob pulled in to a
narrow car park and wearily followed me into the shop. He really was very
shabbily dressed and I was risking my reputation just by being seen with him.
What can I do, though? I’m just a good person. Saint-like.
Bob followed meekly
behind me with his head hung as low as his thick neck would allow, like he was trying
to hide his face in his chin folds. I filled my arms full of clothes and
directed him to the change
room. I sat expectantly on a blue and yellow striped chaise lounge. I knew Bob
could be transformed from booze hound barfly to, well, one step up from
that.
“I’m ready, but I’m
not coming out. I look ridiculous,” Bob whispered sharply over the change room
door.
“That’s an
impossibility. You looked ridiculous before we came in here. Be a man for God’s
sake and come out so you
can see yourself from every angle.” Big tough men were all the same deep down.
Sensitive and scared.
Bob walked out in loose
fit denim jeans coupled with a navy blue long sleeved shirt that nipped in
slightly at his waist. It had small white pinstripes running down the length of
it. He looked like a different person.
“What’s wrong with
that? You look great. What size shoe are you?”
“What’s wrong with my
thongs?”
“Bob. I’m on a
schedule here. Things will move quicker if you just listen.”
The shadow cleared from
his eyes. He had no fight left. “Size eleven.”
I walked to the shoe
section, which sold genuine leather shoes in every colour
imaginable. I picked a black,
brown and beige and six pairs of matching socks. He could wear his thongs on
Sundays.
“Try
these.”
The black boots fit
perfectly and again I realised how gifted I was. I had a natural talent for
shopping.
Bob stood in front of
the mirrors and eyed himself cautiously. “I like it, but it doesn’t feel like me
any more.”
“Will you miss the
grubby old polo, Bob? Now try on the rest of the clothes. We’re running out of
time.” I shooed him back into the plush-purple carpeted change
room and decided I’d call
Kylie even though she was
a no good, gossiping liar, to see if she could fit Bob in for a mercy
cut.
“What
now?”
I decided to ignore
her curtness and get straight to the point. “I have an emergency
client for you. He has a
date tonight and he can’t possibly go looking like the Bee Gees. The dead ones.
Bad hair coupled with pallid and pasty skin, it’s not nice to look
at.”
“What? Who is
he?”
“Bob. A taxi driver I
met today. Can you meet at my place?”
“You want me to cut
the hair of some random taxi driver you met today and you’re
taking him to
your house?”
“God, when you say it
like that it sounds creepy! Good point, though. Let’s meet at your house in half
an hour.”
“No, I’ll meet at
yours. He’ll be the last client anyway.”
“Ok, if I’m not there
on time just make yourself comfortab ...”
“Samantha, this is
not a social experiment, just friggin’ get there on time!” And with that, she
hung up on me for the third time that day.
I glanced over at
Bob, who was still looking at himself sceptically in the full-length mirror.
“C’mon, Bob, we’ve got another appointment. Grab the clothes and pay. I’ll meet
you in the cab.”
Five minutes later, Bob
returned to the car. His face was devoid of all colour and his eyes seemed
vacant, dead almost.
“Bob, what happened?
You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He glared at me and
said, “Are you on commission for that shop? Jesus, that little
bundle of clothes just
cost me two months wages!”
“God, is that all? I
thought something serious had happened! Let’s go, my friend Kylie is going to
try and do something with that hair of yours.” He looked at me and went to
speak, but thought better of it.
During the elevator ride
up to my floor, I explained to Bob how many CCTV cameras he’d been seen on today
with me just in case he was some kind of homicidal maniac. He looked at me
blankly and said something totally nonsensical: “I think I’d be let off once a
jury of my peers met
you.”
As if. I pictured
myself flouncing around a court room, yelling, “Objection!” I’d wear those thick
black spectacles so people would notice my intelligence and not just my looks.
Then I’d wink at the cute juror, the one that looked like Keith Urban, but with
shorter hair. Why oh why did he have to be married to Nicole?
I opened the front
door of the unit and walked smack bang into hundreds of tiny little
mirrors hanging from the
ceiling on thick silver wire.
“What the hell?” I
said, as I tried to untangle myself from their tentacle-like
clutches.
The house smelt
like coconut. Hmm. I
walked over to where my hall table usually sat, to find a row of
three pot plants with round leaves. Hmm. There was some kind of waterfall
music playing – the kind
that stresses you out because you know it’s meant to calm you and the more you
think about being calm the more stressed out you get.
I walked to the
kitchenette and snatched up a hastily written letter.
“Darling,
I
feng
shui-ed
for
you.
The
mirrors
should
turn
your
fortunes
around.
Your
front
door
faces
your
back
door
and
your
money
walks
in
and
right
out
again.
Don’t
forget
to
water
the
plants.
It’s
bad
feng
shui
to
kill
a
living
thing.
(You
might
want
to
consider
this
when
you’re
eating
meat.
Cows
have
feelings
too,
you
know.)
I’ve
taken
the
liberty
of
moving
your
furniture
around
so
you
have
good
Chi.
Please,
please
get
rid
of
that
dress!
Heed
my...
I screwed up the
letter and boiled quietly on the inside. Crazy woman! I made a mental note to
get my locks changed. My Mum was obviously practising some kind of
occult ritual on me, her
innocent daughter and guinea pig, so she could perfect her craft and charge
unsuspecting
customers. She was a crook, a
charlatan, a swindler even.
Kylie knocked on the door
and let herself in. “So, where is he?” she said as she walked into the mirrors
and was momentarily blinded by the swirling prisms of light. “Whoa, your Mum’s
been here, I take it.”
“You’re late!” I
screamed at her, maybe somewhat unwarrantedly (that goddamn
waterfall music had me on
edge), “Can you start on Bob here, so I can finally relax? It’s been a hell of a
day.”
“OK, OK. Don’t get
your knickers in a knot. Geez, I’ve come all the way over here for the second
time in two days!”
“What do you mean
‘all the way over here’? You live next door!”
“So?”
“So? So, next door
isn’t even two metres away!”
“So?” Kylie kept
going, she couldn’t let me get the last word in. “I could be relaxing too, you
know!’
“Fine, fine. Can you
just get started then?”
Kylie huffed and puffed
like she was the big bad wolf while she unpacked her tools. Bob was busy trying
to look inconspicuous.
“Hi, Bob, I’m Kylie.
Have a seat for me here, will you?” she said, pointing to a dining room
chair.
“Hi, love. I just
need a small trim, I think.”
Kylie nodded and summoned
me. “Sam, what’s the plan for Bob today?”
“Well a metro-sexual
style won’t suit will it?” I asked.
“No, he’s definitely
not sharp enough for that. What about retro-sexual?”
“It’s gotta be better
than bet-tra sexual! Hair style for the chronic gambler!”
Kylie laughed and then
remembered the seriousness of the situation and became a little bit
emotional.
She held Bob’s hair
between her fingers and tutted, “Now, Bob,” she said in a soothing tone, “I can
fix this, but we have to get to the source of this flagrant self-abuse. Your
hair is a living thing too, you know. Why would you spend years hiding behind
dirty unkempt hair, Bob? This is a safe environment, Bob. You can be
honest. I won’t judge you.” Bob looked at me like he feared for his life. I
guess he’s never had his hair cut by a hair psychologist
before.
“Ah, I’ve just been
busy. It’s only hair, love.”
Oh, God. Wrong answer.
Who says that to someone holding razor sharp scissors?
Kylie sucked in her
breath so severely I thought she was going to pass out.
She shook her head and
walked away from Bob. “Samantha, I’m going to need a minute here,” and she sat
on the lounge with her head between her knees and concentrated on shallow
breathing. She muffled through her red cotton skirt. “This is more serious than
I thought!”
I walked to the
fridge and pulled out a bottle of white wine, hoping a glass or two each, would
help diffuse the situation.
“Glass of
vino,
anyone?”
Kylie stood up and walked
back over to Bob. “I can only have green remember?”
“Well, white wine is
made from green grapes.”
Kylie smiled for the
first time in a while and said, “Of course, I’ll have a big glass, then. This is
going to get worse before it gets better.”
Bob lifted his knees up
and hugged them into his body. He started rocking back and forth a little
strangely. Kylie whispered to me, “This is all part of the process, don’t let it
scare you.”
She put on her serious
voice and said, “Bob, was it your Mum? She cheated on your Dad, didn’t she? It
made you feel invisible didn’t it?”
Bob ignored her and
continued rocking, only adding a small mewing sound like a lost
cat.
“Or, was it the kids at
school, Bob? You were always picked last for sport weren’t you? You had asthma
and couldn’t run fast, could you?”
I must say I was
fascinated. I think we were getting somewhere here.
“It was your ex-wife,
wasn’t it, Bob? She started buying your clothes from K-Mart and cutting your
hair herself, didn’t she? You kept quiet even though you started to
resemble Bob Hawke, didn’t
you?”
Bob’s eyes widened and
his body stiffened. The rocking stopped as suddenly as it
started. Kylie nodded to me
and said, “It’s OK, Bob. It’s OK. There, there. We can fix this.”
Bob started sobbing and
cried, “Yes, please, I’ll do anything! I’m so sick of the Bob Hawke jokes. She
did it on purpose, you know! She was evil, pure evil!”
“Ok, you’re going to
have to commit to a six week treatment plan. Every six weeks you need to see me.
Now it’s not going to be cheap. Cheap is what got you into this mess,
remember?”
“I can
pay!”
“Hallelujah, Bob. I’m
going to start cutting now. Try to relax. This is a safe
environment. If you need a
break, you just let me know, ok?”
“OK,” he sniffed,
wiped away his tears and looked suddenly hopeful. I left them to it, it was
becoming a little too
Tyra
Banks for me.
My phone started
playing the Jaws theme song.
“Hi, Mother. I
noticed you did some redecorating.”
“Darling. You sent me
a message about Bob? And I just wanted to say …”
“Oh, it was nothing,
just the taxi I was in, for precaution.”
“Right, so … you didn’t
actually talk?”
“No, not really,” I
could see where this was leading, some kind of new therapy she’s designed
targeting taxi drivers. Bloody con woman, she’d rob children if she could get
away with it. “So, I noticed you broke into my house, again.”
“Darling, I wouldn’t
call it breaking in, I have a key you know, and I’ve been so
worried about you. Tell me
everything that’s happened since I saw you yesterday!”
“Well, I think you of
all people know exactly what’s happened to me since
yesterday.”
“Darling, what does
that mean?” She used that mawkish mother voice that sounded very innocent, thus
implying to me, she was very guilty.
“I think you should
use your powers for good not evil, Mum.”
“Darling, are you on
that sugar-free diet again? You
sound a little on edge.”
I thought about all
that had happened. Really, I was some kind of machine to keep
going with all I’d been
through, who wouldn’t be on
edge? I decided to change the subject.
“JJ is back in town.
I escaped from a potentially expensive lunch date.”
Mum sighed. “I love JJ,
darling. I think you get too caught up in that imagination of yours when you are
with him. He loves you. I’ve done his numbers. You two are well
suited.”
“Oh, please, Mum! He’s
obviously gay!”
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