“Let’s see the fashion haters try to knock those off by midnight,” Wendy T. said, reaching into her bag and producing the goods. I was thinking maybe a candy-cane-striped shroud?” “I’ve never been to a Christmas-party-slash-funeral. “I’m leaving you girls the keys,” the stylist said. To protect their salon session from prying eyes-hackers, they called them-who might try to bootleg their latest style incarnation. It wasn’t just because the beautician was closing early for Christmas. The Wendys were the last customers at Curl Up ’N’ Dye beauty parlor. “What is she doing there, and who is she doing it with?” Eric asked them, but neither could answer. “No more Electric Eric’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” Mike sang, trying to lighten the mood. “You know how Charlotte is, man,” Mike wailed. I’m not the one walking around here making her feel like I’d rather be somewhere else.” “Don’t know if she’ll come back or if you care?” “Don’t fret!” Mike screeched in his best heavy metal howl. “Feeling what? The Big Fade or Charlotte?” As we eye our gifts beneath the tree with anticipation and open them with bated breath, we have every expectation our desires will be realized, only to sometimes suffer the shattering disappointment of finding that dreams are out of stock.Įric, DJ, and Mike were moping around. We drop hints, make lists, send letters to Santa, all with the expectations our wishes will be granted, our order filled.
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