Three weeks ago, a parlor of a totally different kind suddenly sprouted on the dead spot. Feng-shui experts would probably balk at the placement, but the beauty parlor seemed to do well. Never mind that there was only a thin film of curtain separating the pa-beauty gadgets from the display of coffins.
The beauty business, however, was cut short when--after a long, dry spell--a wake was finally held at the funeral parlor. I don't know if they made the mourners more self conscious, but it must have been a challenge to cheat at pusoy with the (beauty parlor) mirrors all around.
In any case, the wake is over and it's business as usual for the beauty parlor. This reminds me of my conversation with my QC neighborhood parlorista, the one who introduced me to the wonderful world of gayspeak:
L:"Tita, shocking pero si P, ayun sumakabilang parlor na."
Then naive me: "Ha, wala na dito si P? Saan sya lumipat?"
L: "Ano ka ba tita? Tigok na as in dead, patay, dedo na sya.
Kaya ayun, may I lipat na from the beauty parlor to the funeral parlor
Oh, and by the way there's another business at the back of the beauty and funeral parlors: an ice-cream factory. Ugh.