sketches of women

sketches of women

fiction
edward w pritchard

Beautician, part time only:

The young lady was six months pregnant, her husband had recently lost his job and she was working part time at the franchised beauty shop.

This was to be her third child. She was experiencing pain in her legs from standing but was fighting not to take a non aspirin product, maybe bad for the baby.

She walked into the back and let the woman who was getting her hair dyed wait a couple of extra minutes and sat down. Returning to work she listened to the customers complain about their boyfriends and inability to lose weight.

Young waitress:
She was very confident with herself, confident on her feet.

She looked at you straight in the eyes and was a little too pretty to look at for too long.

I am sure all the men were too friendly with her, but although she was young she had the look of the Medici, that is the Italian aristocracy, and she commanded a certain respect.

She said she was a student and wasn't sure what she wanted to do. She slid next to me, me sitting alone in my seat and she talked a minute.

When she left the room, she did look a little sad, at least once.

Old Waitress in costume jewelry:

Everything she said was a contradiction to her previous statement. No, I am not talking about someone ex-wife, it was our waitress, not a waitress at a donut shop, but at a dark diner in a dieing town, once a promising city.

We got a table, we didn't have to sit at the ice cream counter, it said Hershey's ice cream, and looked like a brightly colored coffin. Instead we were at a cramped table.

Our waitress was related to 11th century European royalty, at least in her own mind. She had an attitude that she was too good for her job, no harm really, but it did ruin our meal.

They say depression and anxiety are caused by our inability to deal with a situation that continues to bother us after we realize we should take some action. That waitress needs to make some changes in her life if she can.

I am OK with her going for therapy or even little white pills, but I kinda of liked her and left a nice tip, even though she ruined our meal. I am OK with her getting therapy and medication but please don't call it personal growth at least not around me.

A pretty girl with an accent and a hijab

She was a second year student at the college majoring in Mathematics. Her families financial situation had changed dramatically and she was forced to take a part time job in America where she studied at the University.

She had never faced any kind of prejudice before not even at home as a woman. It took her a while to get used to the gibes in America at her part time job.

She put up with the prejudice at the Midwestern town in America for three years and then after she graduated decided to move to a large east coast city to escape the provincialism.

Not a talker

A good person, who didn't have much to say so everybody eventually ignored her and took advantage.

Beautiful Girl
One day when I stopped to collect at his apartment he had an extremely beautiful blond girl there. He was very fat and really wanted to impress me and introduced her as a playboy bunny. It was probably true because he got a lot of important phone calls and tipped very well. She was about 5 or 6 years older than me and he told me a lot of suggestive jokes about her right in front of me.

Sunday when I was delivering papers at 5AM I saw her at the corner of the apartment building by the Lake, standing outside freezing, and smoking a cigarette and staring across the Lake. She asked me to stay a minute and she put her hand on my arm. She started to cry. I never was good at that kind of situation and I was worse at 15 years old.

Looking through the beauty I could see how she would look when she was old.
end