Valley PTA Hair Salon

Absurd, witty, and just a teensy bit wicked, this odd and campy little vignette will provoke an escapist grin in these troubled times.

Deep in the Valley of Hair Salons the dolls dance dirty and dangerously. 

A quick call from the barker begins the performance. Barbies, Kens, Midges and Allans start to spin. Doll feet moving in a syncopated, rousing rhythm of one-two-three one-two-three one-two-three. The pace moving faster and faster as ever-more dolls join the fray.

Is it really as dangerous as they say? he asks.

Deadly, I say.

But still we cannot look away.

Hair all akimbo, the dolls start to limbo in a conga line across the room. The room shakes with their bouncing booties and tapping feet. One-two-three one-two-three one-two-three.

The chairs and dryers rattle in the salon. Scissors and combs fall off of carts. Shampoos and dyes drop from the shelves.

Like an army of evil Elvises the dolls swivel their hips, angrily asserting their domination of the room.

We better go, I say.

Can we watch a little longer, he asks.

I shake my head no, but before we can go they cut us off from the door. Twirling their way in our direction. No longer a dance but a full-on doll insurrection.

And we’re trapped.

Grab a curling iron, I say, melting’s the only way

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Drew Cushing

Drew Cushing

The bastard son of New Narrative and Language Poetry, Drew's writing has a delicious way of disturbing others. His writing has appeared in Zyzzyva, Cathay, Laundry Pen, Dodie Bellamy's Nars Orgasm Zine, The Marjorie Wood Gallery, Second Floor Projects, 580 Split and other publications. Drew holds an MFA in Creative Writing from San Francisco State and AB in Dramatic Literature from Vassar College. He is a graduate of Trinity Repertory Company and Conservatory where he learned Viewpoints from Anne Bogart.

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