first dance number at the beauty college reunion/draft 1

first dance number at the beauty college reunion/draft 1

fiction
edward w pritchard

They are not called chairs, but stations. It is an honor to call us who work or once worked at the stations girls, for no matter how far one of us who once was a beautician at the beauty college goes in life, our hearts are always partly here. Here being Mrs. Donna Washingon's School of Beauty in Richmond, Va.

At the first night get acquainted meeting of current beauticians in training, alumni, and instructors something spontaneous occurred. A beautiful outpouring of harmonious commrardary.

Everyone was giving free styling and makeovers to the young high school seniors from the nearby local schools. Mostly pretty girls, the students from secondary, and most of the students in training attending Mrs. Donna's [Washington] school of beauty were dolled up for the ceremony, for they get their first designation tomorrow night; and the alumni, were beautiful as only an older woman can be who was once a doll themselves.

I was bringing in the cake for Mrs. Washington for tomorrow night's ceremony and I couldn't stop my eyes from feasting on the beauty in the room. I had come in in the middle of things and every one present at all of the stations was singing and dancing. Each singing to their imaginary to be lovers, even those who had already found him and had to settle for him as he was. But the school girls and some of the beauticians in training didn't know that yet and there was an electricity of subdued sexuality filling the mirrored, low ceilinged, bright white beauty college floor.

Beauty is the lust of the eye and I couldn't not watch. Swaying and strutting, but feminine and modest all at once. Everywhere. I looked and peeked, back, forth, up and down; nearly tripping over the cake, devil's food delight.  Occasionally someone took notice of me but mostly the dancers were somewhere else. To supplement the sound system many many of the older women sang and gestured as they moved.

No matter how far a girl from Mrs. Donna's goes in life, Lawyer, Doctor or Real Estate Broker; she will always be bewitching and enticing to the aficionado's of beauty thanks to the teachings she started out with at Mrs. Donna's School of Beauty of  14 Harris Street, Richmond, Virginia.
end

voyeur fait multiplient

voyeur faire multiplient

fiction
edward w pritchard

It started when I was twelve watching the hullabaloo dance show. Eight girls in white boots, short skirts with broadway boogie woogie tie dyed boxed patterned shirts dancing in synchronized controlled edited for American television provocatively.

On my first trip to France I snuck away from the high school art lectures to watch the crazy horse dancers in Montmartre can can dancing six abreast.

Now it takes twenty dancers to pick my curiosity. French of course. Boots optional. But, no matter what mon cherie you are always second from the left in line, and no matter what the costume de jour; you always have the white boots and short skirt that in my minds eye enhance your  joie de vivre as it exploded into my life half century ago.