Stylish Persuasion

The smell of cheap cigarettes on Suna’s hair every Friday evening had become the main conversation topic during her parent’s spare time.

Excelling at work was the only thing that kept them together.

– ” I told you we should have let her go to hairdressing school.”

– “I’ll think of something”, said the dad, with an idea in his head already.

Gloria was greatly relieved, even if sometimes his ideas were not so good.

– “Suna! Where are you? We’re going to dump the rubbish.¬† Will you lend us a hand?”

– “Oh no, I just sprayed some perfume!”

– “Come on Suna, you smell more like an ashtray from the spa’s staff room…

She blushed and hurried to tie her trainers.

– “Did you get your grades?”

– ” No idea yet.”

– ” argh! You gave me the heaviest, stinkest bag!”

– “It’s the last one you carry.”

She turned pale.

– ” We’ve heard you’ve been doing your friends’ hair in exchange for cigarettes. …Very peculiar. .. Is this true?”

– ” Yep!”

– Well We’ve got two pieces of news for you. First, you have just dumped a carton of cigarettes a client brought me.

– er… what? Cigarettes?

– Yes, cigarettes. You can search through the rubbish for them. Your mum’s got a new perfume for you.

– Why did you do that? She sniffed her wrists, staring at the garbage heasitantly.

He gave her a couple of minutes to think. She stayed still.

– “Second!”

– ” What? ”

– ” Second piece of news,¬† and it’s good news- you just dumped your schoolpass, because …. you have been admitted at that cool hairdressing college you wanted to go to… beside the fact we ticked the “smokers” box when choosing a room….

– “Dad, mum! Is this true? ” A tear flew from her dark eyes.

– “As true as your cigarette scent.”

Uneasily she said “Thanks”, and had a quick glance at the garbage.

Gloria pulled a bag from the car and handed it to Suna.

– ” Perfume, cigarettes! I don’t want the Cigarettes! Let me dump them in the rubbish!”

– ” Ha, ha, ha Suna, with your old fashioned trading skills you can get a free treatment day at the Spa for that carton!

– ” No spa for me. I’ll give them to Annie for having messed up her braids last week…

– “You messed them up?

– “It’s a long story.”

– “In one sentence?”

– ” My boyfriend got her a few designer samples!… She smelt her hands again… ”

-” Does she smoke?”

– “Like a barbecue! but never infront of guys…. Gosh I’m gonna miss her… ” She smiled and asked her mum- “do you mind if I also give her the perfume?”

– “Excellent! We’re proud of you now! Now go upstairs to pack your stuff… you’re starting school on Monday!

– “Great… but one little thing- can you change my room for a non smokers one?”

Her parents kissed each other.

The End.

dedicated to Gloria, my Gloria from south London, Marcia, my Gloria from central london, and I can’t remember… . oh, LARA, my…..

to all children  of God.

thanks, geezazzz….

Just another Status Symbol

mariano-nocetti-716793-unsplashDora hadn’t a clue that her smile was something to be ashamed of. She was in her mother’s car praying it wouldn’t crash as mum was closing some business deals over the phone.

The twelve-year-old was used to watching her being served as some sort of superstar again. It was the orthodontics surgery, and the kids in the waiting room looked as if they were on their way to be slaughtered with no mercy.

“it’s like getting some fashionable jewellery” said mum, in the usual voice she used when lying.

The specialist’s assistant used the words “brave” and “cool” to address Dora as she poked her gums clumsily with some sort of Middle Ages torturing instruments.

Dora thought to herself that all the genuine smiles she had been sharing with other kids, spreading love and connection, was actually a genetic default.

Mum had taken a check book and paid in advance. Dora didn’t get an option.

Like a broken AI that had been causing grief, Dora bared the filth of having four stinky hands – with no gloves- in her tiny mouth at the same time.

 

Not to mention the hygiene conditions. Bracket pieces were pulled out of a box, shoved into her mouth and then back in the box again, over and over again. Of course, her darling mum hadn’t been allowed into the surgery.

 

Dora overheard the orthodontist saying “this procedure will grant your child a lifetime of success opportunities- Dora’s lucky, only the privileged can afford this. The job will be done in eighteen months. Come back every 4 weeks for adjustment. And I will need to remove 4 teeth to make some space, but we’ll talk about that later.”

Once the session was over, mum said “You look so glamorous” and drove Dora around every friend’s home, showing her new teeth the way an old seller would bargain for a horse. She exaggerated the fee she spent threefold to each and every one of them.

One kid looked at Dora with pity and said “My ma would never do that to me.”

Is it right to teach a kid that beauty – if Colgate teeth can be named Beauty- counts more than dental hygiene? Because the bacteria collected during 18 months is enough to kill all the sharks in the London Aquarium.

Not surprisingly mum didn’t keep the adjustment appointments as she was busy “working” and cavities soon began to appear from South to North.

 

When Dora had had enough and was seeing that the result on her smile was “uglier” than it looked at starting point, she resorted to her granny to take her to have them removed. Her mother didn’t even notice the difference: she had completely forgotten about them all.

Dora had also missed a climax moment to get her first kiss.

After the disaster, it took the youngster 8 long years to learn how to smile again without covering her mouth with her right hand.

It seems like we are forgetting- in the human world, difference is so charming.

 

The End.

 

More humour here.