Blood in My Hairspray

I am Damian Shtup, owner and proprietor of Shtup Shtop The Beauty Shop, need I say New York's grandest hair salon? Hip is out, baby. For me, grande (always with an e) is the order of the day. I have my vision, my art and my very own product line to support me. These alone see me through the doggiest of all dog days. Everything you see in my salon, everything you touch, smell and incorporate into your lives, I created. People magazine called it my "unique vision." Well, my vision is everything. You buy into my vision, you're buying into me. The late Vidal Sassoon had it right when he made that hokey ad claim: "If you don't look good, we don't look good." I’d use it in my own ads except that I'd probably get, like, sued or something for the privilege--okay, so I did use the line in my ads one lonely night years ago and I did get sued. That Sassoon was a fucking bitch, let me tell you. So much for my first confession. My agent made me promise I’d keep this real. Do you feel "deep inside" my life yet? You feel like you’re getting the "untold story"? Yeah? Well, you should. Jesus, I just started this thing and already I feel raw. Did I tell you Vidal wore makeup the day she came screaming into my salon? I would've slapped her silly but I didn't want to get my hands all dirty. Besides, I was with a regular, loyal head at that moment. A cash register-ringing weekly customer. Unfortunately, it was attached to Mrs. Marinara.

Mrs. Connie Marinara.

I caught her red-handed all right. She had been using a bargain brand of hairspray. I could tell. I’ve made my fortune off being able to tell.

I scolded her in the only way I’d learned you could scold a war-torn Mafia wife--by pretending I wasn’t scolding her at all. I started with the sing-song approach: "Mrs. Marinaaaa-ra-aaaaa......" I’m ugly when I’m desperate, but it was worth the sacrifice in the name of selling one more bottle of product. And, boy, was I pissed! But I’d learned the hard way – there's an art to handling the respectable Mafia witch. I didn’t spend years creating and packaging a full line of Damian Shtup hair care products for nothing, you know. I had to admit, it was all fabulous stuff. (With my gorgeous, fully-retouched photo on every bottle, by the way. If you didn’t know me you’d swear I was only 9.) "Mrs. Marinaraaaaaaaaaa-raaaaaa," I chirped again. "You're not using my hairspray-ay-ay...."