This saga. This story of how a blonde rat lived and died and lived and died again in this African hair braiding salon is every reason to stay and leave New York City.
So I’m waiting my turn to get braided. All of a sudden women start shrieking and pointing. I look over to see something... not sure what at first. A squirrel? A ferret? The chestnut/blonde coloring of the thing does not immediately read “rat” to me but friends, it was a 🐀
A rat dragging along a stray piece of braided hair on its tail, which was also disconcerting and I briefly wondered if the rat had done that to beautify itself like some hair salon Ratatouille or something. IDK.
So women start screaming and moving to the opposite side of the small shop. One woman kicks the rat right past my feet toward where everyone has already scampered. So they shriek again and run the other way. I put my feet up.
The blonde rat with a kanekalon tail is now a couple feet in front of me, laying flat and still. “He’s dead!” yells one woman.
Oh, there’s a man in here btw. He ain’t helping at all. Well he does open the door and say “come on, come on” To. The. “Dead.” Rat. It does not heed.
Oh, there’s a man in here btw. He ain’t helping at all. Well he does open the door and say “come on, come on” To. The. “Dead.” Rat. It does not heed.
Finally, one of the braiders comes over and World Cup Finals kicks the rat out of the door homie held open. With her sandaled foot. A real G.
The rat, stunned out of his momentary death, comes back to life to run away onto the BK sidewalk straight into a full bus stop
The rat, stunned out of his momentary death, comes back to life to run away onto the BK sidewalk straight into a full bus stop
IDK what happened to him then.
The women in the shop tho... resumed braiding and getting braided. Resumed eating sausageeggandcheese sammiches from the bodega and watching Afro-beats videos. One woman never stopped what sounded like a biz phone call the whole time.
The women in the shop tho... resumed braiding and getting braided. Resumed eating sausageeggandcheese sammiches from the bodega and watching Afro-beats videos. One woman never stopped what sounded like a biz phone call the whole time.
Takeaways:
•This hair gotta get done and these coins gotta get made.
•West African women are fearless
•You can score a goal with a rat
•NYC is nasty
•Rats can be blonde
•Disney could have another hit on its hands if they call me.
•This hair gotta get done and these coins gotta get made.
•West African women are fearless
•You can score a goal with a rat
•NYC is nasty
•Rats can be blonde
•Disney could have another hit on its hands if they call me.
The more I think about it the more hilarious it is to me bc it never crossed my mind to NOT return to this salon bc of this. I’ve been getting braided since childhood and ain’t really no kind of peace, order, or health department cares in these shops.
You really gotta clear your schedule, pack your snacks, get your French up, and go w the flow.
What’s a rat to a positive braider-to-customer ratio, competitive prices, and in tact edges? In NYC?
What’s a rat to a positive braider-to-customer ratio, competitive prices, and in tact edges? In NYC?
