the doors opened, the white gloved man beckoned, and we streamed onto the last train south.
before boarding we'd joked about sitting around someone and speaking through them, we'd laughed about the discomfort they'd feel at our joke, but then I sat next to Ifey and had an actual conversation.
She is a refugee from Nigeria--she's been here for 10 years now (about) and she's finally opened up here own hair parlor. She came as "a sweeper" and now's living...
She told me that eventually she'll go home, maybe, and open up a big shop.....I pictured it in my mind; a big neon "Ifey" sign...a cloud motif and...I don't know.. her there smiling her toothless smile at her clientele.
she was direct, honest and, through this--disarming. i sat down as a joke and ended up with her phone number and her promise that she'd "teach me to braid" and that we'd "be friends."
sometimes jokes, no matter how shallow, are funny. but not funny haha.
before boarding we'd joked about sitting around someone and speaking through them, we'd laughed about the discomfort they'd feel at our joke, but then I sat next to Ifey and had an actual conversation.
She is a refugee from Nigeria--she's been here for 10 years now (about) and she's finally opened up here own hair parlor. She came as "a sweeper" and now's living...
She told me that eventually she'll go home, maybe, and open up a big shop.....I pictured it in my mind; a big neon "Ifey" sign...a cloud motif and...I don't know.. her there smiling her toothless smile at her clientele.
she was direct, honest and, through this--disarming. i sat down as a joke and ended up with her phone number and her promise that she'd "teach me to braid" and that we'd "be friends."
sometimes jokes, no matter how shallow, are funny. but not funny haha.
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