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Count Me In
Kiana used to like the beauty shop way better than school. Her mother’s weekly appointments were always the highlight of her week. She much preferred counting the minutes pass by on the shop’s clock than she did counting the angles and sides in one of those quadrangle-thingies in math class. So pointless. That was before MicroSociety.
Sitting at the head of the long rectangular table (4 angles and 4 sides, she couldn’t help but notice), Kiana began her typical Monday meeting. Running her own salon and spa, Twists and Tangles, was not easy.
“How many appointments do we have scheduled for this week?” she asked Amaya, her manager.
Running her finger along the appointment book, Amaya counted six – four girls and one boy for braiding, and one back massage.
Kiana scrunched her face. “We’re down from last week. And the week before that. We need to figure something out.” She looked around the table, searching eyes for ideas.
“I know,” Tita started, “We could ad…” she trailed off, cut off by the sound of the PA system.
“Kiana for early dismissal,” the loudspeaker announced.
“Nuh uh,” Kiana shook her head, colored barrettes swinging back and forth. “I’ll be right back,” she told her employees. “Tita, continue with your thought. Dequan, write down what she says.”
Kiana strode to the office where she saw her mother.
“Ma, I’m running a meeting and I can’t leave early. We need to figure out a way to turn around our profit-loss…” she declared.
Ms. Sims looked at her daughter. And saw something she liked. Something she hadn’t seen before. Conviction.
“Alright, Kiki, just come to the shop after work. I’m counting on you, but I know your employees are too.”
Kiana liked being counted on. And she liked being in school. Like those quadrangle-thingies, it had a point. Make that several. |
