Trixie was in the kitchen washing dishes with the stereo blasting Lil Kim which is what woke Savannah, her roommate up. At 3am. On a Tuesday.
I used to be scared of the dick
Now I throw lips to the shit
Handle it like a real bitch
Heather Hunter, Janet Jack-me
Take it in the butt, yah, yazz wha
I got land in Switzerland, even got sand
in the MarylandsBahamas in the spring,
baby, it's a Big Momma thing
Can't tell by the diamonds in my rings
That's how many times I wanna cum, twenty-one
And another one, and another one, and another one
"You wanna be this Queen B but ya can't be that's why you mad at me!!" Trixie was singing while she scrubbed a pot. Which shocked Savannah because Trixie's nails were always perfect. She went in for all the crystals and the intricate designs. Savannah couldn't imagine doing dishes if her own nails were done.
She had blundered into the kitchen, hair mussed up, sleep in her eyes. Trixie stopped in mid-lyric, her mouth a wide O as she stared at her roommate
"Girl!! I am SO...SO...SORRY!! I forgot you were here!!" she said. Trixie ran to cut the stereo off.
"Go back to bed, girl! I'll be quiet! I will. I promise!! You've only been here a few weeks and sometimes I forget. I'm used to coming home and blasting my shit!!"
Savannah was still standing there looking totally insane. So Trixie took her by the arm and lead her back to bed. Savannah crawled back into bed. "I'm awake now," Savannah said.
She looked at Trixie. "Did you just come from the hair salon?!" she said. Trixie's hair was freshly done, perfectly styled, locks rippling down her back.
"You know it. That bitch takes all fucking night. She had scheduled five people. I went in there at 9pm and I just got done at like 1am. So we went and got something to eat and I'm just now getting home," Trixie said.
Trixie looked at Savannah's hair as she burrowed under the cover. "Girl when was the last time you got your hair done?"
"Can't afford it," Savannah mumbled.
"No bitch. You need your hair done. You can't be looking grizzly like that. I'll make you an appointment with Donna," Trixie.
"I don't want to be up at Donna's salon all night," Savannah grumbled. But she was touched. She had wanted her hair done for a long, long time. Trixie knew she couldn't afford it. And Savannah knew that she'd pay for it without even asking for her money back.
"It won't take that long," Trixie said. "This was a weave!"
Savannah hadn't known that Trixie had a weave. "Of course I have a weave" Trixie said. "Everybody else does. Get some if you want," she said. "Oh but I didn't TELL you what happened at the salon!! SO! Ella got busted girl!! Her man found out about that lie she told!!"
Ella was another stylist at the salon. She'd been fucking her best client's husband despite the fact that she had her own husband. Everyone in the salon had known that it was only a matter of time before the shit hit the fan, because Ella was so not capable of running game. She talked too much. She talked ALL THE TIME. And she talked about other people, told their business, spiteful remarks behind the backs of people who were her friends even. So everyone in the salon knew that Karma was coming round on Ella's ass real soon. Ella had a good man, too. He worked hard, didn't cheat, was a good father and loved Ella's spiteful ass. It was merely a matter of time.
Trixie was warming up to the tale of Ella's downfall when Savannah interrupted her.
"Trixie, can I ask you something?" Savannah ventured.
"Yeah, girl what?" Trixie smiled. She had curled herself down at the opposite end of the bed as she settled into the story of Ella's self destruction.
"What...what do you DO? For a living, I mean?" Savannah tried to keep her voice light, trying to disguise the desperate, nail biting curiosity that had consumed her.
Trixie tilted her head like a curious bird. "What do I DO? Bitch I handle my business! And you KNOW THIS!!" she said, tilted her head back and laughed a hard belly laugh. "Trixie employs Trixie. I am my OWN mistress. I am Master of THIS Domain!! Okay, girl!!" Trixie boomed.
And for some reason it was impossible for Savannah to not laugh with her. She'd been clowned expertly but not maliciously. Trixie, of course, had not answered the question. But she hadn't lied either. She was her own mistress. She did take care of her own business.
Whatever that was.
Trixie finished the story about the hair salon drama which led to a further conversation about the trials of black hair. Which led into Trixie's story. She began telling Savannah The Tale of the Good Hair.
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