Saint Ruth (saviour of the fuckwits)

Justine practically pissed her pants laughing
when she saw my hair.
"What exactly are you supposed to be? Friar Tuck!"
"Shut up! Don't even attempt to talk to me today,
you have been warned Justine." I said sourly.
Everyone was looking at me and for once I was not
being vain or paronoid. They were looking because I
looked like a big freak with bad hair and red eyes
(from crying). Justine retreated to her counter with an
evil little smile dancing on her lips. Oh how I hated
her! For me she was now the embodiment of
everything that was wrong in my life.
Alan had stayed all of sunday night (don't get any
cosy ideas 'cos it did'nt happen). I don't think it
ever will now, we've gone past the' might shag' stage.
But at least he is still my friend and a bloody good one.
Spent the whole day with Justine giggling ,talking to
customers and pointing at my hair.
So I was not a happy girl.
When I returned home Alan and Ruth were
sitting smoking on my doorstep. Alan never seems
to actually write anything (I probably write more) but
who am I to judge?
I ushered them in morosely.
"Heres a present thought it might cheer you up."
Said Alan and passed me a wrapped CD.
"Thanks." I opened it, ScissorSisters:"You bastard!
Ha bloody ha!"
Ruth and Alan laughed at me. Great sense of humour.
Not.
"No it's quite good, you will like it." Said Alan.
"Lets have a look at the hair then. What a fucking
mess." Ruth shook her head sadly, then sharply at
Alan: "What made you think you could cut hair anyway?"
"Well I just tried to help."
"It looks like she's had her head in a food blender.
You, sit down and shut your trap." This was to me,
I sat while she cut rapidly.
"Are'nt you going to wash it first?" I asked.
"No. Why should I? You obviously don't care about
yourself! No, I want to cut it dry first, then wash it and
give it some texture, sorry Becka but you are going to
have very short hair."
I sat grimly while Ruth trimmed away, she washed
my hair without letting me see it. Then she trimmed
and blow dried it while adding a handful of some sort
of gunk that I never had the need for before (when I had
hair). The drying was over very quickly, normally my
hair would take hours to get properly dry.
"Ok best I could do. You can look now." Said Ruthie.
"Lovely, really nice." Alan nodded at me earnestly.
Slowly I looked in the mirror. I was practically a man!
No, but it was very short like the 1960's Vidal Sassoon
crop (like Ruth had herself).
"You look like Liza Minelli as Sally Bowles." Said Alan.
I did'nt. But it was a good look, my jaw line looked
sharp and pretty and my eyes looked larger. Maybe
it was'nt such a disaster after all.
"Thanks babe." I kissed Ruth and shed another tear or
two.
"Silly old tart." Said Ruth.
We spent the evening the three of us eating chinese
and playing Risk (which was apt because I'm sure my
friends thought I was at risk or something). It was
good, I wished Alex was there but she was spending
every moment possible with Sean before he leaves.
Which I could understand all too well.
Today when I got to work Justine peered at me,
at least her smile was gone, she could'nt actively
laugh at my hair because it was perfect.
"You look like the biggest Dyke in the world."
"I still would'nt fancy you Thrush- Breath."
"How juvenile." She walked off with her tip-tilted nose
stuck high in the air, oh how I wished she would fall
flat on her face!
"Am I juvenile because I called you Thrush-breath?
Or because I would'nt fancy you even if I was gay?"
I asked.
"You are a cunt!" It's funny the way she said it
sounded very posh and clipped, if I'd said it people
would faint and call me a brazen fish-wife.
"Well what does that make you then?"
"A better person then yourself! You disgust me!"
She really left this time, I could easily, given my
height and madness have put her in the hospital.
But I was a bit taken aback, she was disgusted by me,
what ever had I done to her to deserve that?

I mulled this over, Alex texted me.
'Heard about bad hair, will call round tonight.'
How could I ever be depressed with such good
friends?
Becka (getting better)