To celebrate the zombie inspired color job that I completed for cosmetology school, I decided to expand on the original story I wrote to accompany the design. Here's it is!
That morning started out like any other. I woke up, and went about my day preparing for work at the salon. We live pretty far out in the country so there's never any people around. Just a quiet morning with the sun rising over my lake. Beautiful.
I hooked up my iPod. My favorite play list is always ready to go. I started singing, so I turned the music up loud. Right as I was belting my heart out to the Jackson 5's "ABC" a car swerved off the road, back on & hit another. Both guys driving got out and started shoving and fighting each other. Being a lone lady in a car with nothing more dangerous than a pretty pair of shears and a can of hair spray, I just called & reported it to 911. By the time I got near town, a police cruiser was heading the direction of the wreck, I figured they were ok.
About 20 minutes later I pulled up to my shop. There was a racket a ways down the road but I paid it no mind. This little town always uses 4 squad cars to pull over someone going 10mph over the speed limit. I chalked it up to some bored, overzealous cops trying to spice up their day.
I opened my little salon, proudly staring out the all glass front of my shop, grateful for all the sunlight pouring in. All ready to listen to people tell me about their lives while I made them over. I've always been amazed how doing someone's hair, painting their nails or even just waxing their eyebrows could make them feel better about themselves. I had just gotten some new expensive shears, so I was itching to put some miles on them.
One after one the calls started coming in. My 7:30 canceled. Then my 8:45, 9:30, and 11:00 all folded too. It was only 7:15! Each story was something about being sick. I remember getting worried I wouldn't have a client at all that day. Then she came running in.
"I absolutely have to look like this girl I just saw!" she exclaimed.
I tried to seem as excited as her but I thought "at least she's actually seen someone today." Right then I caught a glimpse of someone shambling past my shop front.
"Her! I've just got to look like her!" my client screamed.
The woman on the other side of the glass looked very undead. Her skin was turning a ghastly shade of green, with huge red gashes and black bruises pooling on her skin. Her hair was once dark, dark brown, "like dirt from a grave," I thought.
Now, you could see a deep cut running through her hair. It opened up all the way to see her skull.
As my client started gushing about wanting that "zombie look," I ran for the steel grate that I rolled down from the ceiling to discourage anyone from breaking in the front at night. I couldn't risk the ghoul breaking through the glass and attacking us. I got the grate down and started rounding up potential weapons. While I was running for the baseball bat I kept in my office, a man wearing camouflage walked up and shot the undead woman in the head. He then yelled at us to stay inside and that the US Armed Forces had it under control. They threw our zombie's corpse up on top of a truck and continued through the town.
"I always knew the government had a plan for the zombie apocalypse! Guess our tax dollars really saved our asses!" I happily said. I figured since it wasn't the end of the world, I should go ahead and make some extra cash. "How about we start on your undead appearance?" I asked my client.
I began working. Her name was Savannah. College student home on break. One more year before she graduated and entered the real world. I was slightly jealous even though I was only 6 years older than her. It seemed like a lifetime. She was a sweet girl obsessed with horror movies. I could totally relate.
When I finished coloring, cutting and styling her hair, I slowly turned her to face the mirror…
She squealed with delight. "OMG! I look so hot! I'm loving this living dead look!"
Right when I was going to tell her how happy I was that she loved it, a few men in camouflage ran screaming past the glass. I slowly walked toward the front. When I got to the grate, my eyes widened with horror. A hoard of about 30 zombies were chasing the Calvary! Basically, we were screwed and the government underestimated the power of hungry zombies.
I slowly said, "You're going to have to grab a few weapons and come with me, Savannah. Looks like we're on our own."
- Whether you love me or hate me, you know who I am.