“Yes
Mary, same cut and curls as last time!!” and whispering to her
neighbour: “I have never seen such a stupid cow like Mary. My last
visit was a week ago! You should think she remembered that do you?”
And louder: “Yes Mary, you are a good girl, hurry hurry, we want
our tea first!”
With 'we' she meant her neighbour Dorothy and herself, Annabelle. The two ladies met each other at the hairdressers about 30 years ago and became 'weekly' friends. Although they had so much in common, they never met privately. If you ask yourself why they only met once a week I can tell you it is because they had more to gossip about.
They crawled through life like a crab through the sea and gathered with their sharp claws every messy detail about people. And if there wasn't anything, they made it up. Outside the hairdressers they went to Bingo nights, dance clubs, women gatherings, shopping malls, you name it. They were everywhere but never together.
Both were single, not voluntarily. Both had been married. Annabelle's marriage only lasted for two years before her husband disappeared with only leaving a note and the address of a solicitor. It turned out he met a young girl that did not have a tongue as sharp as that of Annabelle who was of course furious! She never stopped talking about her divorce and guess who she blamed...... you do not have to be a genius to know the answer, do you?
Dorothy's husband Andrew was a very different story. He was a timid man who did not say much (well, how could he always being overruled...). Some called him shy, some called him humble. What ever he was, he definitely could not be competitive with his wife and almost everybody felt sorry for him. Men asked him for a night out in the Pub but noticed that this was horror for the poor man. He constantly looked at his watch and disappeared when others became more talkative after a few beers. And one day Andrew stopped going out, no one remembers if he just did not go any more or that the other men stopped asking.
Actually, no one saw him outdoors after he lost his job. The redundancy is still remembered in the village because Dorothy who was afraid she could not afford the hairdresser (thus the evil gossiping) any more, cycled to Andrew's employer and started a row no one had ever seen or heard off before.
It did not help, the boss was not impressed and it took him only 5 minutes to get Dorothy back on her bicycle. Neither was he afraid that the woman's sharp tongue was going to do his business harm. But here he was wrong, he forgot about Annabelle; the two together díd harm to his company and within 4 years he moved else where, leaving more people unemployed. But by then Andrew was resting in his grave at the local cemetery for already 3 years.
People say he just faded away. His energy and spirit extinguished like a flame who ran out of oxygen. Everybody knew who consumed the oxygen but did not dare to say it straight in her face, afraid what was going to happen next.
Another thing the villagers never talked about (in public, let alone near Dorothy and Annabelle) was the amount of money Dorothy spent on the hairdresser and cloths. Andrew had a very modest job in alignment with his character so where all the money came form remained a question for ever. Even Annabelle did not know which caused a minor disturbance in their relationship for a while. But because there was no one else in the village with the same skills of curling a tongue around other people's misery, they restored their friendship and booked their weekly visit for a hairdo.
The owner of the barbershop, Jean, soon found out that the ladies were very willing to pay for a session of a few hours. She also noticed that other clients avoided her shop when the 'Two Evils' as they were called, were present. She came up with a marvellous solution: the shop closed on Thursday afternoon for 'ordinary' people as she told the two ladies. She convinced them that this was their exclusive afternoon, including a high tea. The ladies truly believed they were that exclusive and looked down on everybody who's hair was done on a different day.
Jean told a different story to her other clients who of course, knew that this version was the right one. They were all afraid of the pair of sharp tongues and it was a local relief not to be in the shop together with them. And this way the barbershop flourished as never before.
“Mary, what on earth have you done to the sandwiches!”, the loud voice caused Mary very negative goose bumps and almost in tears she apologized and ran to Jean who put her arms around poor Mary, promising her she was going to take care of it. Patiently she listened to the complaints and said it was never going to happen again. It did not matter if she apologized or not, soon the whole village was going to know about a bad service, carelessly sliced bread and dry scones.
Jean returned to her desk to check the upcoming appointments with clients she liked, careful not to smile seeing a name of someone who was dear to her; the Two Evils never took their eyes of her and made up a story with every move of a muscle in Jean's face. In the meantime she tried to filter the loud gossip from the wishes of the two who now shouted at each other to outvote the noise of the hair dryers, neatly fitted next to each other at the wall.
Jean learned not to be angry hearing all the lies about the nice people. She learned, yes indeed, to feel sorry for these two wicked souls that had nothing else to do in life. How on earth can you thrive on other peoples misery. Or worse: how can you make up stories if there isn't anything to talk about.... What went wrong in the heads of the Two Evils when they were young?
Jean could simply not believe they were born like this. Of course, every one in the village was familiar with a small portion of gossip, like in every other village or street. But she could not remember meeting people who were so horrible.
Neither did she remember who invented the expression 'curling your tongue around other people's misery' but it explained exactly what happened in the mouth of her two gossiping clients. If you managed to look at them without being seen, you literary saw their tongues curling, tasting, black stinking saliva almost dripping from their mouth. You could hear them chewing the gossip, chewing to squeeze every drop out of the stories until it was ready to be spit out; a moment Jean hated.
Thinking this she noticed that she indeed started to hate the Two Evils. It shocked her, she had always been very down to earth; hate and anger were never part of her character. Is this what the 'exclusive afternoons' did to her? Grew the hate so strong that the other five and a half days with the nice clients were not enough to balance her feelings? Or was it the dream she had last night that caused a furious hate? The dream in which the Two Evils were silenced for ever?
Jean's eyes moved from the list with the appointments to the hairdresser tools, in particularly the long narrow scissors with the extremely sharp point at the end. She tasted her own blood again when she accidentally stabbed her finger a few weeks ago. It was the first time in years she cut herself with her own tools.
With 'we' she meant her neighbour Dorothy and herself, Annabelle. The two ladies met each other at the hairdressers about 30 years ago and became 'weekly' friends. Although they had so much in common, they never met privately. If you ask yourself why they only met once a week I can tell you it is because they had more to gossip about.
They crawled through life like a crab through the sea and gathered with their sharp claws every messy detail about people. And if there wasn't anything, they made it up. Outside the hairdressers they went to Bingo nights, dance clubs, women gatherings, shopping malls, you name it. They were everywhere but never together.
Both were single, not voluntarily. Both had been married. Annabelle's marriage only lasted for two years before her husband disappeared with only leaving a note and the address of a solicitor. It turned out he met a young girl that did not have a tongue as sharp as that of Annabelle who was of course furious! She never stopped talking about her divorce and guess who she blamed...... you do not have to be a genius to know the answer, do you?
Dorothy's husband Andrew was a very different story. He was a timid man who did not say much (well, how could he always being overruled...). Some called him shy, some called him humble. What ever he was, he definitely could not be competitive with his wife and almost everybody felt sorry for him. Men asked him for a night out in the Pub but noticed that this was horror for the poor man. He constantly looked at his watch and disappeared when others became more talkative after a few beers. And one day Andrew stopped going out, no one remembers if he just did not go any more or that the other men stopped asking.
Actually, no one saw him outdoors after he lost his job. The redundancy is still remembered in the village because Dorothy who was afraid she could not afford the hairdresser (thus the evil gossiping) any more, cycled to Andrew's employer and started a row no one had ever seen or heard off before.
It did not help, the boss was not impressed and it took him only 5 minutes to get Dorothy back on her bicycle. Neither was he afraid that the woman's sharp tongue was going to do his business harm. But here he was wrong, he forgot about Annabelle; the two together díd harm to his company and within 4 years he moved else where, leaving more people unemployed. But by then Andrew was resting in his grave at the local cemetery for already 3 years.
People say he just faded away. His energy and spirit extinguished like a flame who ran out of oxygen. Everybody knew who consumed the oxygen but did not dare to say it straight in her face, afraid what was going to happen next.
Another thing the villagers never talked about (in public, let alone near Dorothy and Annabelle) was the amount of money Dorothy spent on the hairdresser and cloths. Andrew had a very modest job in alignment with his character so where all the money came form remained a question for ever. Even Annabelle did not know which caused a minor disturbance in their relationship for a while. But because there was no one else in the village with the same skills of curling a tongue around other people's misery, they restored their friendship and booked their weekly visit for a hairdo.
The owner of the barbershop, Jean, soon found out that the ladies were very willing to pay for a session of a few hours. She also noticed that other clients avoided her shop when the 'Two Evils' as they were called, were present. She came up with a marvellous solution: the shop closed on Thursday afternoon for 'ordinary' people as she told the two ladies. She convinced them that this was their exclusive afternoon, including a high tea. The ladies truly believed they were that exclusive and looked down on everybody who's hair was done on a different day.
Jean told a different story to her other clients who of course, knew that this version was the right one. They were all afraid of the pair of sharp tongues and it was a local relief not to be in the shop together with them. And this way the barbershop flourished as never before.
“Mary, what on earth have you done to the sandwiches!”, the loud voice caused Mary very negative goose bumps and almost in tears she apologized and ran to Jean who put her arms around poor Mary, promising her she was going to take care of it. Patiently she listened to the complaints and said it was never going to happen again. It did not matter if she apologized or not, soon the whole village was going to know about a bad service, carelessly sliced bread and dry scones.
Jean returned to her desk to check the upcoming appointments with clients she liked, careful not to smile seeing a name of someone who was dear to her; the Two Evils never took their eyes of her and made up a story with every move of a muscle in Jean's face. In the meantime she tried to filter the loud gossip from the wishes of the two who now shouted at each other to outvote the noise of the hair dryers, neatly fitted next to each other at the wall.
Jean learned not to be angry hearing all the lies about the nice people. She learned, yes indeed, to feel sorry for these two wicked souls that had nothing else to do in life. How on earth can you thrive on other peoples misery. Or worse: how can you make up stories if there isn't anything to talk about.... What went wrong in the heads of the Two Evils when they were young?
Jean could simply not believe they were born like this. Of course, every one in the village was familiar with a small portion of gossip, like in every other village or street. But she could not remember meeting people who were so horrible.
Neither did she remember who invented the expression 'curling your tongue around other people's misery' but it explained exactly what happened in the mouth of her two gossiping clients. If you managed to look at them without being seen, you literary saw their tongues curling, tasting, black stinking saliva almost dripping from their mouth. You could hear them chewing the gossip, chewing to squeeze every drop out of the stories until it was ready to be spit out; a moment Jean hated.
Thinking this she noticed that she indeed started to hate the Two Evils. It shocked her, she had always been very down to earth; hate and anger were never part of her character. Is this what the 'exclusive afternoons' did to her? Grew the hate so strong that the other five and a half days with the nice clients were not enough to balance her feelings? Or was it the dream she had last night that caused a furious hate? The dream in which the Two Evils were silenced for ever?
Jean's eyes moved from the list with the appointments to the hairdresser tools, in particularly the long narrow scissors with the extremely sharp point at the end. She tasted her own blood again when she accidentally stabbed her finger a few weeks ago. It was the first time in years she cut herself with her own tools.
 |
| Photo: @rurex_images (Instagram) |
Well, my dear readers, the barbershop has been abandoned a long time ago. After what happened nobody wanted to buy the building, let alone continuing the hairdresser activities.
No
one in the village expected what happened that Thursday afternoon,
honestly, no one! But it did happen. Please let it be a warning to
all of you: never step into the shoes of the Two Evils.
And before I forget, please do not enter the decaying shop. The building is soaked with evil gossip which drips from the walls, cracking the floors beyond repair.
Word of thanks: the photo of @rurex_images (Instagram) inspired me to write this story and I was given permission to use the photo as an illustration for which I am very grateful. Thank you!
Links: please visit the beautiful Instagram account of @rurex_images
Note: the story is pure fiction! A figment of my imagination!
Helen
And before I forget, please do not enter the decaying shop. The building is soaked with evil gossip which drips from the walls, cracking the floors beyond repair.
Word of thanks: the photo of @rurex_images (Instagram) inspired me to write this story and I was given permission to use the photo as an illustration for which I am very grateful. Thank you!
Links: please visit the beautiful Instagram account of @rurex_images
Note: the story is pure fiction! A figment of my imagination!
Helen
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