Marissa, or as nearly everyone knew her as, Riz, had been out of work for about two weeks after a bad burn to the hand. A little girl that had been running around the beauty shop got in her work space and went to pull a hot curling iron off of the counter. In true mom fashion, she tried to protect the child and attempting to grab it -- only grabbing the heated ceramic cylinder instead.
It was supposed to be her very first day back to the shop, back to her friends, her clients, and back to the neighborhood gossip. However, when she went out to start her vehicle that was parallel parked just out front of her apartment building, it wouldn't turn over. She didn't have much money, certainly couldn't call for a tow, didn't want to call for a cab. The woman started to panic. How would she stay afloat if she couldn't make it to work? How would she make rent? How would she buy food?
Exiting the car, she began to kick at the driver's side front tire and curse. After a few moments of throwing what could only be described as an adult temper tantrum, she walked up to the first person on the sidewalk she could find. "Hi, excuse me? I-I really don't mean to bother you and all that jazz, but I was wonderin' if you could help me with my car?" Mascara stained her brown cheeks from the tears that had spilled from her eyes and she was certain she looked like a crazy person. "It won't start and a girl is literally desperate right now, 'kay?"