Title: Mexican Kimono
Author: Billie Jones
Release Date: September 4th 2014
About the book:
Samantha knows what she wants from life – and she’s got it!
1.A loving family. OK, her Mum’s plan to marry her off to the world’s most
metrosexual man might not be ideal… but it’s only because she cares!
2.A great job. Or at least: a job that leaves plenty of time to update Twitter and shop for designer bargains online…
3.A credit card, with a very generous limit. So generous that she’s just spent over $10,000 on an antique kimono…
But suddenly Samantha’s charmed life starts to fall apart! From a
hair-related fire to losing her job, Sam’s facing bad karma – and it all
started when she bought that kimono…
Sure, it’s ridiculous. How could a piece of silk ever bring bad luck? But it
can! Because, whether Samantha likes it or not, someone wants to teach
her a lesson: it’s what’s inside that counts.
But will Samantha slow down long enough to listen?
Extract:
5. The
Hair Psychologist
I
held my breath until I reached the taxi rank. Once I flagged an
incoming taxi, I managed
to relax and do a big old evil belly laugh. I pictured JJ finishing
the bottle of chardonnay, ordering
another perhaps even more expensive wine. He’d eat my main meal,
then his. Then it would dawn on him. I was not coming back. He would
have to leave his fake Prada sunglasses
as collateral
and make some frantic phone calls for cash to get out of there with
any shred of dignity.
The
taxi pulled up,
and I jumped in without taking any notice of the driver’s details.
I was too distracted picturing JJ’s handsome face trying to explain
to Alberto why he couldn’t pay. Then,
JJ takes Alberto’s soft manicured fingers in his strong warm hand,
and convinces him he could pay in other ways. Alberto’s eyes light
up and he kisses... eww,
hang on. Damn it! That’s not the right fantasy. Bloody cheating
bisexual men. It’s rife around here, I’m telling
you.
I
shook the image from my mind and glanced at the registration of the
driver. I began to text it to my mum when a distinctive voice pipes
up and says, “So,
how was lunch, love?”
You’ve
got to be friggin’ kidding me. Beer belly Bob. Of all the luck.
“I
was left unsatisfied,
if you must know, Bob.”
“Boy
trouble, love?”
“You
could say that.”
“What’s
the trouble? He’s not a vegetarian too, is he?”
“Hmmm,
I’m not sure how to answer that, Bob. I’ve heard lesbians
described as vegetarians,
so does the same apply to straight men that turn gay, then straight,
then almost definitely
gay again?”
“You’ve
got me there, love. I have no idea. So,
your boyfriend’s gay?”
“Yes.
He’s gay and the only slot he is interested in is the one that
swipes my credit card.”
Beer
belly Bob looked slightly shocked, but managed to change the subject
back to himself, like most good cabbies do. “So,
I called my sheil - I mean Val - like I told you I was gonna. I’m
all set to take her out to this Indian vego place tonight. I was
thinking of buying
her some flowers and maybe some chocolates.”
“Great.”
“Yeah.
I thought I might get a hotel room, you know, with a spa. Get some of
that non-alcoholic champagne she loves.”
Ew.
Go away naked mental picture of Bob in the bath.
“Yeah,
then I thought I’d surprise her and scatter rose petals all over
the bed, you know, all romantic-like.”
“You’re
very original, Bob. Did you think of that all by yourself?”
“No,
love. I wish. Saw it on a movie.”
I
just wanted to get home, but it’s the saint in me, I tell you. I
had to, something literally
forced me to. “Bob, what are you planning on wearing tonight?”
“Well,
my birthday suit eventually,” cue disgusting bawdy laugh.
Another
mental picture I’ll need erased by regression therapy.
“To
the date, Bob. What are you planning on wearing on your date?”
“Oh,
I’ll just chuck a shirt on over this one I think, love. Maybe spray
on a bit of Old Spice.”
Aptly
named. Old.
“Hmm.
I was thinking, Bob, you really need a new look. You look like a
truck driver that’s been on the road. For a few months. With sheep.
Who have fleas.”
“A
new look? Val likes me just as I am.”
“I
bet she makes you take a shower before she kisses you. Am I right?”
He
narrowed his bloodshot eyes at me.
“I
bet she bought you a ‘special’ toothbrush just for her house. Am
I right?”
“Well,
yeah, but that’s only ‘cause...”
“I
bet she came to your house only the once and has never been back. Am
I right?”
He
hung his head and said, “Yes. You’re right.”
It’s
like I have a gift. I had to help him. For the sake of his poor
girlfriend.
“Right,
Bob. I’m very busy you know. Stop at these shops here. Bring your
credit card and let’s go.”
Bob
pulled in to a narrow car park and wearily followed me into the shop.
He really was very shabbily dressed and I was risking my reputation
just by being seen with him. What can I do, though? I’m just a good
person. Saint-like.
Bob
followed meekly behind me with his head hung as low as his thick neck
would allow,
like he was trying to hide his face in his chin folds. I filled my
arms full of clothes and directed
him to the change room. I sat expectantly on a blue and yellow
striped chaise lounge. I knew Bob could be transformed from booze
hound barfly to, well, one step up from that.
“I’m
ready, but I’m not coming out. I look ridiculous,” Bob whispered
sharply over the change room door.
“That’s
an impossibility. You looked ridiculous before we came in here. Be a
man for God’s sake
and come out so you can see yourself from every angle.” Big tough
men were all the same deep down. Sensitive and scared.
Bob
walked out in loose fit denim jeans coupled with a navy blue long
sleeved shirt that nipped in slightly at his waist. It had small
white pinstripes running down the length of it. He looked like a
different person.
“What’s
wrong with that? You look great. What size shoe are you?”
“What’s
wrong with my thongs?”
“Bob.
I’m on a schedule here. Things will move quicker if you just
listen.”
The
shadow cleared from his eyes. He had no fight left. “Size eleven.”
I
walked to the shoe section, which sold genuine leather shoes in every
colour imaginable.
I picked a black, brown and beige and six pairs of matching socks. He
could wear his thongs on Sundays.
“Try
these.”
The
black boots fit perfectly and again I realised how gifted I was. I
had a natural
talent for shopping.
Bob
stood in front of the mirrors and eyed himself cautiously. “I like
it, but it doesn’t feel like me any more.”
“Will
you miss the grubby old polo, Bob? Now try on the rest of the
clothes. We’re running out of time.” I shooed him back into the
plush-purple
carpeted change room and decided
I’d call Kylie
even though she was a no good, gossiping liar,
to see if she could fit Bob in for a mercy cut.
“What
now?”
I
decided to ignore her curtness and get straight to the point. “I
have an emergency client
for you. He has a date tonight and he can’t possibly go looking
like the Bee Gees. The dead ones. Bad hair coupled with pallid and
pasty skin, it’s not nice to look at.”
“What?
Who is he?”
“Bob.
A taxi driver I met today. Can you meet at my place?”
“You
want me to cut the hair of some random taxi driver you met today and
you’re taking
him to your
house?”
“God,
when you say it like that it sounds creepy! Good point, though. Let’s
meet at your house in half an hour.”
“No,
I’ll meet at yours. He’ll be the last client anyway.”
“Ok,
if I’m not there on time just make yourself comfortab ...”
“Samantha,
this is not a social experiment, just friggin’ get there on time!”
And with that, she hung up on me for the third time that day.
I
glanced over at Bob, who was still looking at himself sceptically in
the full-length mirror. “C’mon, Bob, we’ve got another
appointment. Grab the clothes and pay. I’ll meet you in the cab.”
Five
minutes later, Bob returned to the car. His face was devoid of all
colour and his eyes seemed vacant, dead almost.
“Bob,
what happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He
glared at me and said, “Are you on commission for that shop? Jesus,
that little bundle
of clothes just cost me two months wages!”
“God,
is that all? I thought something serious had happened! Let’s go, my
friend Kylie is going to try and do something with that hair of
yours.” He looked at me and went to speak, but thought better of
it.
During
the elevator ride up to my floor, I explained to Bob how many CCTV
cameras he’d been seen on today with me just in case he was some
kind of homicidal maniac. He looked at me blankly and said something
totally nonsensical: “I think I’d be let off once a jury
of my peers met you.”
As
if. I pictured myself flouncing around a court room, yelling,
“Objection!” I’d wear those thick black spectacles so people
would notice my intelligence and not just my looks. Then I’d wink
at the cute juror, the one that looked like Keith Urban, but with
shorter hair. Why oh why did he have to be married to Nicole?
I
opened the front door of the unit and walked smack bang into hundreds
of tiny little mirrors
hanging from the ceiling on thick silver wire.
“What
the hell?” I said, as I tried to untangle myself from their
tentacle-like clutches.
The
house smelt like
coconut. Hmm. I walked over to where my hall table usually sat,
to find a row of three pot plants with round leaves. Hmm. There was
some kind of waterfall music
playing – the kind that stresses you out because you know it’s
meant to calm you and the more you think about being calm the more
stressed out you get.
I
walked to the kitchenette and snatched up a hastily written letter.
“Darling,
I
feng
shui-ed
for
you.
The
mirrors
should
turn
your
fortunes
around.
Your
front
door
faces
your
back
door
and
your
money
walks
in
and
right
out
again.
Don’t
forget
to
water
the
plants.
It’s
bad
feng
shui
to
kill
a
living
thing.
(You
might
want
to
consider
this
when
you’re
eating
meat.
Cows
have
feelings
too,
you
know.)
I’ve
taken
the
liberty
of
moving
your
furniture
around
so
you
have
good
Chi.
Please,
please
get
rid
of
that
dress!
Heed
my...
I
screwed up the letter and boiled quietly on the inside. Crazy woman!
I made a mental note to get my locks changed. My Mum was obviously
practising some kind of occult
ritual on me, her innocent daughter and guinea pig, so she could
perfect her craft and charge unsuspecting
customers.
She
was a crook, a charlatan, a swindler even.
Kylie
knocked on the door and let herself in. “So,
where is he?” she said as she walked into the mirrors and was
momentarily blinded by the swirling prisms of light. “Whoa, your
Mum’s been here, I take it.”
“You’re
late!” I screamed at her, maybe somewhat unwarrantedly (that
goddamn waterfall
music had me on edge), “Can you start on Bob here, so I can finally
relax? It’s been a hell of a day.”
“OK,
OK. Don’t get your knickers in a knot. Geez, I’ve come all the
way over here for the second time in two days!”
“What
do you mean ‘all the way over here’? You live next door!”
“So?”
“So?
So, next door isn’t even two metres away!”
“So?”
Kylie kept going, she couldn’t let me get the last word in. “I
could be relaxing too, you know!’
“Fine,
fine. Can you just get started then?”
Kylie
huffed and puffed like she was the big bad wolf while she unpacked
her tools. Bob was busy trying to look inconspicuous.
“Hi,
Bob, I’m Kylie. Have a seat for me here, will you?” she said,
pointing to a dining room chair.
“Hi,
love. I just need a small trim, I think.”
Kylie
nodded and summoned me. “Sam, what’s the plan for Bob today?”
“Well
a metro-sexual style won’t suit will it?” I asked.
“No,
he’s definitely not sharp enough for that. What about
retro-sexual?”
“It’s
gotta be better than bet-tra sexual! Hair style for the chronic
gambler!”
Kylie
laughed and then remembered the seriousness of the situation and
became
a little bit emotional.
She
held Bob’s hair between her fingers and tutted, “Now, Bob,” she
said in a soothing tone, “I can fix this, but we have to get to the
source of this flagrant self-abuse. Your hair is a living thing too,
you know. Why would you spend years hiding behind dirty unkempt hair,
Bob? This is a safe environment,
Bob. You can be honest. I won’t judge you.” Bob looked at me like
he feared
for his life. I guess he’s
never had his hair cut by a hair psychologist before.
“Ah,
I’ve just been busy. It’s only hair, love.”
Oh,
God. Wrong answer. Who says that to someone holding razor sharp
scissors?
Kylie
sucked in her breath so severely I thought she was going to pass out.
She
shook her head and walked away from Bob. “Samantha, I’m going to
need a minute
here,” and she sat on the lounge with her head between her knees
and concentrated on shallow breathing. She muffled through her red
cotton skirt. “This is more serious than I thought!”
I
walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of white wine, hoping a
glass or two each, would help diffuse the situation.
“Glass
of vino,
anyone?”
Kylie
stood up and walked back over to Bob. “I can only have green
remember?”
“Well,
white wine is made from green grapes.”
Kylie
smiled for the first time in a while and said, “Of course, I’ll
have a big glass, then. This is going to get worse before it gets
better.”
Bob
lifted his knees up and hugged them into his body. He started rocking
back and forth a little strangely. Kylie whispered to me, “This is
all part of the process, don’t let it scare you.”
She
put on her serious voice and said, “Bob, was it your Mum? She
cheated on your Dad, didn’t she? It made you feel invisible didn’t
it?”
Bob
ignored her and continued rocking, only adding a small mewing sound
like a lost cat.
“Or,
was it the kids at school, Bob? You were always picked last for sport
weren’t you? You had asthma and couldn’t run fast, could you?”
I
must say I was fascinated. I think we were getting somewhere here.
“It
was your ex-wife, wasn’t it, Bob? She started buying your clothes
from K-Mart and cutting your hair herself, didn’t she? You kept
quiet even though you started to resemble
Bob Hawke, didn’t you?”
Bob’s
eyes widened and his body stiffened. The rocking stopped as suddenly
as it started.
Kylie nodded to me and said, “It’s OK, Bob. It’s OK. There,
there. We can fix this.” Bob
started sobbing and cried, “Yes, please, I’ll do anything! I’m
so sick of the Bob Hawke jokes. She did it on purpose, you know! She
was evil, pure evil!”
“Ok,
you’re going to have to commit to a six week treatment plan. Every
six weeks you need to see me. Now it’s not going to be cheap. Cheap
is what got you into this mess, remember?”
“I
can pay!”
“Hallelujah,
Bob. I’m going to start cutting now. Try to relax. This is a safe
environment.
If you need a break, you just let me know, ok?”
“OK,”
he sniffed, wiped away his tears and looked suddenly hopeful. I left
them to it, it was becoming
a little too Tyra
Banks
for me.
My
phone started playing the Jaws theme song.
“Hi,
Mother. I noticed you did some redecorating.”
“Darling.
You sent me a message about Bob? And I just wanted to say …”
“Oh,
it was nothing, just the taxi I was in, for precaution.”
“Right,
so … you didn’t actually talk?”
“No,
not really,” I could see where this was leading, some kind of new
therapy she’s designed targeting taxi drivers. Bloody con woman,
she’d rob children if she could get away with it. “So, I noticed
you broke into my house, again.”
“Darling,
I wouldn’t call it breaking in, I have a key you know,
and I’ve been so worried
about you. Tell me everything that’s happened since I saw you
yesterday!”
“Well,
I think you of all people know exactly what’s happened to me since
yesterday.”
“Darling,
what does that mean?” She used that mawkish mother voice that
sounded very innocent, thus implying to me,
she was very guilty.
“I
think you should use your powers for good not evil, Mum.”
“Darling,
are you on that sugar-free
diet again? You sound a little on edge.”
I
thought about all that had happened. Really, I was some kind of
machine to keep going
with all I’d been through, who
wouldn’t be on edge?
I decided to change the subject.
“JJ
is back in town. I escaped from a potentially expensive lunch date.”
Mum
sighed. “I love JJ, darling. I think you get too caught up in that
imagination of yours when you are with him. He loves you. I’ve done
his numbers. You two are well suited.”
“Oh,
please, Mum! He’s obviously gay!”
About The Author:
Billie Jones is a writer from Australia who enjoys imaging herself wrestling
killer crocodiles and swimming with great white sharks. She thinks she may have
to attempt base jumping so she can write about it and Bungee is on the list
too. You can find her either in front of her computer writing about her
fictional adventures or at the beach searching for the next perfect wave.
https://twitter.com/
My Review:
Well, this was a really surprisingly good read. Only surprising to me
because I never read comedy fiction. It's something I never choose to
read as I don't generally find them all that funny. I have a weird sense
of humour myself and find odd things funny, so fiction that is comedy
never generally ends up being a choice of mine. BUT, I decided I would
give this a go as I loved other books by this author and decided it was
time to try something new. Take a risk, for me.
It paid off, I loved it.
Samantha, the leading lady in this story, is everything that most people find stupidly annoying in others. She is conceited, totally shallow, and selfish. Also completely oblivious to her own flaws. YET, you can't help but laugh your pants off at her. She is so annoying it's comical. I normally would instantly dislike her character and not continue reading, but she is so funny and dramatic that you can't stop laughing at her rather awful misfortune. It really is like someone seeing things and conversations one way, then you skip to the real conversations and real situations, and think WOW how on earth did she come up with that in her mind?
One day on her way home from work, Samantha happens to pass an auction and decides to take a look. Now with a huge addiction to shopping and buying anything that takes her fancy, she sadly catches sight of a rather pretty and striking Kimono. Having no clue of it's history or worth she finds herself bidding on it, having to have it. It's not until she wins the item that she realises it cost her $10,000 Australian Dollars. Oops. Lucky she has credit cards with crazy limits.
Anyway, after taking home her beautiful and scandalously priced antique Kimono, weird things start to happen. At first it seems like just really badly timed accidents and incidents, yet after they keep on rolling and Samantha has very little money, friends and hair left. It's apparent something more sinister is at work.
After endless warnings from her new age mother, who reads it in the tea leaves and cards that her daughters life and finances are in danger, Samantha laughs off all these warning of course. Until her mother rather comically ends up passing the warnings on to all her friends too. So, at this point everyone seems to know of Samantha's misfortune and the connection with the ominous Kimono.
Basically, from here on in we see a story that is played out through some hilarious scenes, as Samantha determines what connection the Kimono has with her impending fate and whether someone, if not everyone is out to get her. Plus amidst all the drama, trying to work out her love life. As she seems to have a very gay ex boyfriend wanting to get back with her, and a very gender confused ex husband wanting the same, cue some even more funny scenes. It really is comedy at it's best. The quick wit and sharp lines will have you snorting rather weirdly whilst reading. It's like a cross between an Australian Bridget Jones with a bit of all the girls from Sex and the City. I guarantee some rather hideous laughing to yourself at this story!
A must read for a good laugh, very well written and crazy entertaining!
5 Stars.
It paid off, I loved it.
Samantha, the leading lady in this story, is everything that most people find stupidly annoying in others. She is conceited, totally shallow, and selfish. Also completely oblivious to her own flaws. YET, you can't help but laugh your pants off at her. She is so annoying it's comical. I normally would instantly dislike her character and not continue reading, but she is so funny and dramatic that you can't stop laughing at her rather awful misfortune. It really is like someone seeing things and conversations one way, then you skip to the real conversations and real situations, and think WOW how on earth did she come up with that in her mind?
One day on her way home from work, Samantha happens to pass an auction and decides to take a look. Now with a huge addiction to shopping and buying anything that takes her fancy, she sadly catches sight of a rather pretty and striking Kimono. Having no clue of it's history or worth she finds herself bidding on it, having to have it. It's not until she wins the item that she realises it cost her $10,000 Australian Dollars. Oops. Lucky she has credit cards with crazy limits.
Anyway, after taking home her beautiful and scandalously priced antique Kimono, weird things start to happen. At first it seems like just really badly timed accidents and incidents, yet after they keep on rolling and Samantha has very little money, friends and hair left. It's apparent something more sinister is at work.
After endless warnings from her new age mother, who reads it in the tea leaves and cards that her daughters life and finances are in danger, Samantha laughs off all these warning of course. Until her mother rather comically ends up passing the warnings on to all her friends too. So, at this point everyone seems to know of Samantha's misfortune and the connection with the ominous Kimono.
Basically, from here on in we see a story that is played out through some hilarious scenes, as Samantha determines what connection the Kimono has with her impending fate and whether someone, if not everyone is out to get her. Plus amidst all the drama, trying to work out her love life. As she seems to have a very gay ex boyfriend wanting to get back with her, and a very gender confused ex husband wanting the same, cue some even more funny scenes. It really is comedy at it's best. The quick wit and sharp lines will have you snorting rather weirdly whilst reading. It's like a cross between an Australian Bridget Jones with a bit of all the girls from Sex and the City. I guarantee some rather hideous laughing to yourself at this story!
A must read for a good laugh, very well written and crazy entertaining!
5 Stars.
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