Here’s an article written by Hailey about the trials and tribulations of finding a kid-friendly stylist. It’s not an easy thing to do, which is why she decided to start her own children’s salon.

This is one my clients, Hailey Arthur, a mom-preneur in Ballantyne.

When I moved to Boston, I didn’t have a job. But three weeks and 19 interviews later, I landed a position at an amazing company called Total Learning Concepts. The moment I walked in, I knew the job was mine.

When I arrived, Cory, the woman at the front desk, greeted me. Then she sat down beside me and told me about the company, the people and work. She was so personable, so open. I liked her instantly. And I knew this place was for me.

And then I met Carol. The President. She had an MFA in Renaissance Lit, married her tennis partner and had a kitchen with a sky painted on the ceiling. She was everything I wanted to be. And she trusted me. Here I was, a blushing red head, fresh out of school, and she hired me to start an inside sales department for her company.

The thing is: I belonged there. And I knew it by talking to Cory. She was a barometer to the culture and the company. Sitting in the lobby beside her, I knew this job was the perfect fit. And my instincts were right on. My gut pegged it in the lobby. I loved that job. And more importantly, I listened to my gut. And even though there are times when I’ve ignored what it had to say, one thing holds true: it’s never been wrong.

It’s 8. Pam Grier sits across from me at a Tex Mex bar off Pico. When she laughs, her mouth fully extends and her blouse buttons look ready to quit. She downs margaritas and chalks life up to accident.

She never expected Hollywood. But Hollywood expected her. She instead, was set to become a Dental Hygienist. “When I was discovered, I was workin’ my way through school. But the guy I was with, served me up heartache by marrying some one else. So I left home and went looking.”

And then she became a goddess. A gorgeous and yet semi-awkward goddess. Watching her move while she speaks—is odd. Her shoulders turn, her head tilts and lips smack around her face. She’s the woman bitching on the subway and Foxy Brown. When she talks to the waiter, she points to the menu. When she holds a glass to her lips, her head tilts forward, and her curls play suicide along the rim. Chewing ice, she answers my questions.

ME:

How do you respond when someone interrupts you? Are you irritated?

PG:

Yeah. Especially that call waiting beep. Always beeps in right before I get the juice. The scoop. Makes me so angry.

ME:

I pulled that question from a career compatibility test.

PG:

A test? You think that’s how you gonna find the answer? Can’t plan that shit. It’s decided. Already decided.

And then Pam tells a joke. She moves closer, her elbows make elongated V’s on the table. “How do you make God laugh?” she asks. Loose em’s and ha’s spill out before the punch line: “Make a plan.” And with that, Pam’s back returns to the chair. Her breath stops hitting my face and for a moment, she relaxes.

Full Disclosure

I’ve been trying to catch up with Pam Grier for a while. But she never returned my calls and to be honest: I never called her. But I still wanted to interview her. And I thought, we’ll, maybe I’ll just pretend to interview her. And so what you just read, is what I think we would have talked about.

Fictitious Interview with Bono

Previously published in Charlotte Magazine, December 2005. (Page 28)

He’s the lead singer of the band U2, a political activist, screenwriter, orator, thespian, clothing designer and the most superstitious person I’ve ever met. That’s why we’re sitting at Jason’s Deli pounding pudding.

Bono eats pudding before every performance. When he forgets: “a dark cloud hangs over the stage.” And so here we are, in the back booth off Woodlawn. And even though I’m lactose intolerant—I’m eating the hell out of some pudding.

Bono practices countless rituals to keep his home healthy, his crops plentiful and his life balanced. As he puts it: “Sanity isn’t free. You need to earn it.” And sometimes that means doing strange things.

When his daughter, Memphis Eve, got meningitis, he repainted the entire house DayGlo orange. “It killed the poison.” (She recovered three days later.) When he’s feeling writer’s block, he prank calls Gilbert Gottfried. “Sometimes it’s hard to meet the muse. Writing Achtung took a lot out of me. I buzzed Gottfried then banged out ‘Acrobat.’”

And every night before he goes to bed, he takes a tall glass of asparagus juice. “It chases away the foxes.” (Urban foxes are common throughout Dublin.)

ME: You’re full of it.

BONO: No, this is the way it is. This is the price of life.

ME: Either you’re one good storyteller or you’re a damn good liar.

BONO: They’re the same thing.

And with that, Bono pushes his rose-colored glasses up the brim and heads back to the pudding.

DISCLAIMERS:

I love Jason’s Deli but I’m not a fan of their pudding.

Sometimes I’m lactose tolerant and sometimes I’m not. It fluctuates.

I never ate pudding with Bono.

Bono may or may not be superstitious. I’m not really sure.