The rest of the day was rather uneventful. In fact, Amanda would have no other street traffic pop in, for even a quick trim. At this rate, she knew she was on track to be swallowed up by the lease debt if clientele didn't improve. And then what? It's not like she had a plan, not that she ever really did to begin with. Amanda fancied herself somewhat of a free-spirit. Plans would only tie her down.
Her mind drifted to Chad.
He was handsome and personable; and shockingly unpredictable. By all accounts, Chad, with his boring, shapeless mop should have been just like everyone else who comes in for their 6 month trim. Most people know the haircut they want and exactly how they want it cut. It's not that there's anything wrong with that, but the artist inside of Amanda just couldn't stand the dullness in setting a coif. When Chad walked in that morning, she saw opportunity. His cheekbones hidden by the flat sandy, blonde hair, even his hazel eyes downplayed. But why did Chad trust her so openly? People like Chad, people who've had the same haircut their entire life don't just wake up one day and decide to be spontaneous, do they?
Amanda was surprised by the ease in which they conversed during the 50 minutes spent reviving his locks. Well, she was more surprised by herself she supposed, and how openly she answered Chad, who leapt from question to question about her. She talked about her late grandma, "Nan," who made the best beach picnic baskets. She told Chad about her silly art degree. Ugh. It's not silly. It just won't ever pay my bills. Why don't they tell you that in school? They talked about movies, her favorite - anything scary, anything that made her heart race. She realized when all was said and done, she had talked more about herself than she had in a while. She also realized she had learned nothing of this man sitting in front of her. While he spoke from subject to subject with a natural fluidity, she sensed a tension, and anxiousness in his stiff posture. She wondered why. Why had Chad come into her salon that morning? Where was he from? His accent and polite manners indicated somewhere in the South but Amanda couldn't quite pinpoint where. She'd never really had the opportunity to travel much.
She guessed he was in his late twenties. What did he do for work? His traditional style and practiced manners suggested corporate, but despite all of this, Amanda couldn't shake the feeling that Chad was anything but corporate.
As she locked up the salon that night, she couldn't shake the curiosity bug that pierced her veins. She wanted to know more about Chad, his hobbies, his passions. Did he have a girlfriend? Maybe a wife? Was he here for work or pleasure? What was upsetting him that day? Amanda pondered over the possibilities. Was it weird to want to know more about a complete stranger, she questioned herself? She chuckled as she thought to herself, Who makes up stories about strangers they may never meet again?
A small part of her nudged her to believe they would meet again, but she was one for believing in serendipity and couldn't be sure if it was just her whimsical nature leading her on.