Member-only story
The Life of One Small Business Owner In America
Her name is Karen.
Karen has owned her hair salon for more than 30 years. It’s an unassuming place — think Truvy’s beauty parlor in “Steel Magnolias” — and like Truvy’s, it is a beacon for a number of regular customers who have come to think of Karen’s place as a refuge.
Each day a parade of characters comes in to have their hair done and share their stories. There’s Razzy who is 65, and who loudly and proudly talks about her breast implants and tattoos. There’s Deacon with his long braided ponytail. He only comes in for his beard to be trimmed. Sylvia is 92, and always arrives with an elaborate scarf and low kitten heels as she gets her regular silvery style. All people, all walks of life, one salon. And the one and only Karen.
Karen grew up in my neighborhood, but was much older and considered to be one of the “bad” kids. My neighbor use to complain about Karen and the company she kept, saying she was always up to no good. The adults use to whisper that part of the problem was that Karen’s dad died suddenly, leaving her mom to raise four kids alone. According to them, that woman needed a man around the house who could discipline those kids. No one gave a thought to the fact that Karen’s mom had to find a job that could support her family. Her kids’ behavior was her fault.