Being a stylist was perhaps not her forever calling, but for the moment, Melinda greatly enjoyed it. The girls she worked with were sweet and energetic, the salon was forgiving toward her relaxed nature (and tendency to not wake up much earlier than noon) and schedule her accordingly. Melinda liked the work, liked talking to people and making them feel beautiful. It was exciting and challenging and enjoyable, what more could she ask for? Her parents were annoyed she wasn't making any use of that degree they'd paid for, but Lindy just wasn't interested in ironing down her life enough for that.
Maybe when she settled down a bit more...
Dressed in all black, the uniform of the salon, she headed toward the front desk to check the book and see if she had another appointment coming in. She spotted the girl seated in the lobby and immediately chirped a bright, "Hello," giving her a smile. Customer service happened to be one of Melinda's strongest suits. She was great at making people feel liked, warm, and welcome. She drummed burgundy nails on the book, noting the name marked down. "Were you waiting for someone, sugar? The receptionist called in sick today, we've been a little scattered. My chair is free, if you're hoping for a cut."