When Sif arrived back at work after two days off, it was to find her coworkers complaining about the noise happening next door. It also meant that people were cancelling their appointments and that was never good for business. Part of Sif wanted to go give those works a piece of her mind, but they were only doing their job. But the whole situation was making her stomach feel weird and uncomfortable and she blamed it on her own volatile emotions. One of them had come in to use their bathroom and left a trail of dirty footprints across the floor she'd just cleaned. Sif had pushed him into the wall and shoved a hot curling iron towards his face, thinking how easy it would be so scorch that ugly mug of his. In moments she'd let him go, drawing back, horrified at her actions as she always was when that violence came upon her.
"At least some of them are good looking," one of the other hairdressers had winked at her later on after she'd calmed down with a cup of peppermint tea. "Love a man with strong arms."
Sif smiled a little at that because, yes, she had to agree there. She was always drawn to the strong burly types. It was hardly surprising.
When she went outside to get some air, another of the worker's was there and she flirted a little, touching his arm, even giving him his number. Either his friend hadn't mentioned the crazy lady threatening him with a curling iron, or he didn't know it had been her.
She still felt guilty about it though by late afternoon, and so brushed her golden hair again, touched up her make up, and made her way next door, standing in the doorframe and giving it a loud knock so she could be heard above the hammering and chatting.
"Hope I'm not intruding," Sif said, in the soft and smiling way of a beautiful woman who was never denied by men. "I wanted to ask you boys if you'd like some coffees?"