Carrie exited the paid taxi.
The end of the line.
Nowhere else to run.
Out of work.
Couldn't afford her apartment.
Can't get a decent job.
And some bozo on the television said the recession was over.
"Blow it out his ear!"
"Excuse me, Miss. Did you say something?"
The taxi's driver had just set the second of her suitcases on the sidewalk beside her.
"No, sorry. Just thinking out loud. Nothing important, I'm sure."
He didn't crack a smile. "As you say, Miss. Good day."
With growing trepidation Carrie watched the car drive down the street until it was just a tiny dot. Reluctantly she turned to look around once more.
"Miss Carpenter?"
Carrie spun around and found a medium height woman. Before she could observe much more, the woman held her hand out in greeting.
"I am Miss Cavendish. I am in charge of personnel coordination. Please pick your bags up and follow me."
Before she could say a word, the middle aged woman had turned and started walking down the street.
Quickly Carrie slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up the other bags per hand. Walking as fast as her high heels allowed, she raced after the older woman.
Now she had time to observe the woman's hair was cut short and curled tight all over. She was about twenty pounds overweight, and the below knee skirt and shirt she wore were just that little bit tight with the buttons straining just a millimeter or two. Most of the buttons were covered up by the simple sweater she wore, buttoned a few places in the mid-front placard. Her gaze lowered for a second and took in the woman's hose had a seam up the back and her shoes were no-nonsense one-inch pumps.
Walking behind the woman, Carrie decided the only thing remarkable about the woman's appearance was that every article of clothing was brown, with her shirt being tan. Even her hair was brown.
"Here we are, Miss Carpenter," the other woman announced as she opened the door, holding it for Carrie to walk through.
Carrie took a moment to realize here was a hair salon. Looking around she saw that this nothing like the sleek, stylish places she was used to getting her hair done. Instead there were frilly curtains on the windows, stainless dome styled hair drying stands and the chairs shiny chrome. They were accented by pink and polka dot cushions, under plastic.
The bags slipped from her fingers.
Time warp!
She'd just stepped back into the Fifties.
Mary Cavendish turned, glancing down at the bags. "Please set those in the corner. They will be fine there until we are finished."
Carrie whispered, "Finished?"
Mary Cavendish turned to the small counter that held an old-fashioned cash register. Looking at the young woman there, she spoke, "Hello Lillian. We have a full appointment scheduled. We'll be seated until it's time."
The raven-haired teenager scanned the appointment ledger and then marked off something using a pencil. "Of course, Miss Cavendish, it shouldn't be too long. Everything seems to be running on time."
"Not a problem. We'll wait until called." Mary Cavendish pointed to the chairs.
Since there were not two together, Carrie took the seat nearest where she'd placed her bags. As she watched, Mary took a seat close to the nearest station. Almost immediately the stylist started talking to her. It was too far away for her to hear anything.
Watching all the people, it wasn't too long she saw there was not a single man or boy. In nearly every salon she went to in the city catered to both male and female clientele. Not seeing any men seemed strange. A second later, redirecting her gaze she jumped in her chair.
Staring directly at her through one of the windows was a tall, dark haired man with aviator style sunglasses. She couldn't tell a thing about what he looked like except that he was good looking if you went by bone structure, great hair—thick and just long enough to entice a woman's fingers—were enough to go by. He was lightly tanned
For the first time she considered that this might not be as horrible as she'd been anticipating. If this was a sample of the men around here, she would not have anything to complain about after all.
"Miss Carpenter."
Carrie looked toward the sound of her name being called. A short, stout woman with ink black hair had called her name. What struck her immediately was the woman's eyebrows were just as dark as her hair and painted on like the actresses of the forties often did. Her hair style was strictly poodle cut and curl all over.
Mary Cavendish was standing beside the woman. "Hello, Betty Lou, I hope we didn't keep you waiting."
The dark haired woman shook her head and not a single curl wiggled. She smiled and Carrie noticed the bright pink lipstick showing off very lush, plump pink lips.
"Not a problem, dearie. It's always a pleasure doing work for Mr. Winston."
"He's aware of your service, Betty Lou, and Albert too."
"So what are we doing today?" Betty Lou asked.
"Miss Carpenter is entering Mr. Winston's special service. I have a list of his requirements. A refusal of any level will cancel the contract and you are to stop work immediately. Call me and I will arrange her transfer out." Mary turned sharply and looked at Carrie. "Come now, Miss Carpenter. I suggest we start in room A, as usual."
Carrie followed the two women, unsure of just what she'd gotten herself into. Some of the language was beginning to sound unpleasant.
In the next room, which was at the back of the beauty parlor, Betty Lou pulled a paper gown from a drawer and handed it to Carrie.
"Alright dearie, everything off. Here are some wipes to remove any makeup. We'll be back in five minutes."
Carrie knew her mouth was open. Frantically she searched her memory for what her contract had stated. She remembered sort of reading it. At the time she'd been so grateful to have a place so she wouldn't be spending next month on the street, living out of a grocery cart—if she could afford one that is!
...agree to modifications to appearance as desired by employer, including physical and superficial and permanent, all at no cost to employee.
Free haircuts!
That's what she remembered. But at no point had getting her hair trimmed ever involved removing her clothes, let alone her underwear! Still she quickly removed her clothes because she was still one step from homeless.