Weather: absolutely peak of spring gorgeous most of the day -- most of the week -- but clouds moving in now. WOnderful weather.

Reading: Rock Rats, Ben Bova

Listening to in the car: Men are from Mars, WOmen are from Venus This is one of those books about which Gregg says that if you've read the title, you've read the book. It surely does have a lot of repetition. There are a few very good points, but the author pounds them like he's tenderizing a round steak from a 10 year old cow.

The below story I wrote tonight inspired by the inspiration in today's entry in the Writers Digest calendar.

I was up to my wrists in Amanda Hacker's home-dyed, home-permed, fuzzy-fried hair, trying to redeem the crap with a decent cut. It wasnt' going to work, but I could only do what I could do, while she told me the latest.

"So I said to her -- well, not in so many words, you understand. I never can remember exactly what I said, and it sounds so lame later on since you're not right there, you know?"

I raised my eyebrows at her reflection and nodded while checking my guidelines.

"So I said to her something to the effect that she could have the Jackass -- that's what I call Jack when I'm pissed off -- she could have him if she wanted him." She started to shake her head in disgust but I anchored her jaw with my outside fingers. I was trying to work here. Silence until I met her eye in the mirror again.

I blinked. "So what did she say to that?"

"Oh, she trounced off, flipping her cheap little skirt and wiggling her cheap little ass." I knew the girl she spoke of, and did her mother's hair, so had already heard thing or two. It didn't suprise me that she took a shine to Amanda's husband. She took a shine to any number of guys his age, and that probably wasn't all she took.

"Now how long ago was this?"

"Two months. And I didn't think a thing of it. You know, Jack wouldn't have anything to do with her, not when he has a real woman at home, you know?"

"Makes sense to me," I agreed, opening my eyes wide, trying to keep from laughing.

"Well, honey, we both woulda been wrong. I got this --" She paused and looked around the salon. Joella and her customer were laughing in the corner and the receptionist was on the phone with some half-deaf old lady, giving a perm quote for the third time. Amanda lowered her voice so much that I almost had to lean forward to catch what she was saying. "I got this itch, you know where I mean."

"Oh, god, no," I whispered back. If she started describing her symptoms I would be so out of there, haircut half-done or what, and no tip and I wouldn't give a flying flip.

"Yes. Absolute-ally yes. I got medicine from the doc and didn't say a word to Jack, not one pea-pickin' word, you know?" That was hard for me to imagine, but I was filled with gratitude for her cutting short what could have been a mui tedious symptomfest. Thank you, Lord!

Amanda continued, her voice rising more than she realized as her tale wound up. I flicked a look over at Joella. Both she and her customer were very quiet. "It only took a few minutes to lay my trap, so to speak. See I got this bra, this cute little bra close to the size I was sure she wore -- she's no real woman like me, you know?" Gotcha, Amanda, I wanted to say. Real women wear size 44 long, right? "I got this cute little flirty red bra with lace and push-up pads and I tucked it into the car seat. Then all I had to do was get him to take me out. That's not hard with Jack. All I had to do was nothing when it was time to fix dinner and he's so hungry he comes in looking around and says, 'What's for dinner?' and I just say, 'I don't know, I haven't read the menu yet.'"

"I'll have to remember that one."

"Use it, honey, by all means. So anyway, we're getting into the car to drive home from this nice friendly little meal. We chatted it up very nicely all the time we were eating. I was nice as pie, you know? Nice as pie, then as soon as we're getting into the car, I dove in for the kill."

Amanda's sense of timing was tiresome as ever. I stood with shears poised, waiting. "And?" I finally asked.

"I pulled that bra out from where I'd tucked it into the seat and asked him just what the hell was this? He spluttered all over the place and confessed and -- do you know they did it right in the car? On his lunch hour? I didn't ask where they parked. There are some things you just do not want to know, you know?"

She waved her hand around, watching the cubic zirconias -- or is that zirconii? -- sparkle. "So I told him what the doctor said I had and he was mortified."

"Well, I just guess he was. I hope everything turned out all right?"

She lifted her hand up to the light. "Oh, honey, it turned out more than all right. See, that's how I got this little pretty here."

I dropped the comb and heard gasps from the next station.

"I told my sister it was for our anniversary, but you're the only one in the whole town who knows how I really got it!"

I wouldn't bet on that, Amanda.