I had only been living in Detroit for a few weeks, but already it felt more like home than New York ever had. They were a different sort of people out here, blue collar types who worked hard and drank harder. I had always felt a bit out of place in New York, despite my attempts to fit in. I worked in a beauty shop out east as a child, spending my days cleaning up the salon and my nights doing my own makeup at home, trying to replicate things I had seen the women working in the shop do for customers. Mother was never around, she was always out on the town living the flapper life, so I had a lot of alone time to hone my craft.

When I moved out to Detroit it became clear there was a serious lack of high end finery in the ladies here. The depression had hit the city hard and the Midwest was slow to recover. While the factories were beginning to regain stature, other businesses were few and far between. Most had closed up years ago never to be reopened. I spent weeks searching for a decent salon to no avail; my dead ends were getting out of hand. I could have just snipped them myself but I had always enjoyed the company of a true salon atmosphere. The gossip, the giggles, and the girls.

I had a similarly difficult time finding clothing in Detroit. There were a few tailors still open but the firmly catered to men and weren't like to make a dress or hosiery. Something had to be done.

My recent affiliation with the Blanca Nieves Cartel had given me some sway in the 12th Street neighborhood, along with a fair amount of cash. I was able to procure a building (mostly legally) to start up my own business in. It was an old shipping warehouse that had become derelict during the depression. The previous owners had been using it to move amphetamines, but I didn't want any of that small time action. After displacing them I cut off the trade and let it be known that this was to become a clean establishment in the future.

Being a large building I had plenty of room to do whatever I liked with it, but which way should I go? The city had dire need of not only salons, but beauticians and fashion stores. I wanted to do them all but wasn't sure which one. I could eventually open one of all three of course but which one must come first? 

I was out having drinks in a local spot with my mentor Talia one evening when she posed the idea: why not just do all three then and there? The warehouse was certainly big enough, why not have a place where a girl could go and not only get her hair did, but also her makeup, and then match her new look to a new dress? It was brilliant! An all inclusive feminine department store, where a girl could go and have anything she needed. I was consumed with the idea and immediately hired a contractor to see it through.

*****

A few weeks later the renovations were completed and I opened The Chain Gang Boutique. The warehouse was divided into 3 departments by stanchions rather than partitions; I wanted gossip to be able to travel freely through the shop. The left side of the boutique was the hair salon, where I had appointed two young girls called Stacey and Delilah I had found working in old rundown hair salons in the suburbs. There were three chairs set up in front of sink counters with mirrors looming over them, where the supplies were stored and all the action took place. The area was well lit and fragranced with lilac, with hardwood floors to make cleanup a breeze.

To the right was the beauty salon, where I had hired a sweet old Asian lady who went by Ling to handle the bulk of the makeup duties. She was very skilled and I knew I wouldn't have to worry about her like I might with the younger girls. There were only two stations set up here, one for Ling and one for myself. I planned to work in all three areas but this was my bread and butter, so I made sure to have an area set up for myself. I thoroughly enjoyed doing nails and makeup.

The center area was bigger than the other two, as that was where the clothing was displayed and sold. I'd scoured the city for seamstresses to do custom work but at that point had yet to find anyone worthwhile, so I was bringing in garments from other sources. I shipped dresses and skirts and such, coats and furs from out of the country. I had acquired a robust selection and was happy with what we had, despite the lack of original works.

I had an office in the back where I would keep the books and run the business, and occasionally entertain more prominent customers. One particular day I had just finished the prior days numbers and walked out onto the floor to assist with customers, when I saw a familiar face...

It was no secret that Sana was having a bit of trouble adjusting from the glitz and glamour she was used to from living on the Upper East Side to the... rustic and quaint charm of 12th Street, Detroit. It was no secret because she kept on complaining about it to anyone who would listen. Since everything happened so quickly -- discovering her sister was missing then going to her tattoo shop to look for clues and instead finding a mysterious calling card which led her to join the life of crime -- she didn't have the time to get back to New York and settle her properties. She missed her collection of faux furs and high heels terribly, all the sparkles and glitter she had when she opened her closet. She'd been shuffling through the same four dresses for the past month as she shuttled between Seattle and Detroit, and had half a mind to take a side trip to Las Vegas to at least find some luxury. Before she could do that though, she caught wind of a new boutique in her neighborhood, so she decided to drop by and check it out. She didn't have her hopes up though -- if it was anything like all the other shops in Detroit, then she wasn't interested.

Sana was definitely pleasantly surprised as she walked in the vast store, being greeted by a wide array of apparel. Her eyes sparkled as she approached the furs and stroked them, feeling the quality right at her fingertips... and knowing she probably couldn't afford too much of it. She'd always been a spoiled brat and all her wants were bought by her sister, but now that Taiga was gone and she was left in charge of her businesses... the businesses weren't doing so good. So until her business acumen kicks in -- if it ever does -- Sana needed to cut back on her vices and one of those vices includes being an absolute shopaholic.

Straying away from the furs and coats, she looked at the dresses, blouses, and skirts which were hopefully more within her price range. She found a few pieces she liked and was about to try them on when she spotted someone who looked somewhat familiar... AlisonChains, she believed was her name. Sana had spotted her in the HQ of the crew she was working under during one of the few times she'd passed by. She'd never actually met her, but she sent a small smile her way anyway -- feeling a bit giddy because she'd finally found a place that she liked in Detroit. "Hello... Alison, right? I'm Sana. I'd shake your hand but..." Sana looked down at the pile of clothes resting on both her arms before looking back up at the other woman with an apologetic smile.

Ahhhh just the place,

I've been looking for something to accentuate the bushyness of my tail whilst distracting from the bulging nutsack i'm keeping for hibernation.

I look forward to your ideas

The woman with the familiar face had obviously caught my glance, she kicked eyes with me and smiled slightly, as if she recognized me as well. It was curious, I couldn't place where I knew her from, until she approached me and introduced herself as Sana. Recollection came flooding back to me: she was another one of Talia's gals, the wonder women of 12th Street. A strange surge of warmth came through me - it felt nice to "belong" after being on my own so long.

"Yes, I am Alison, it's so nice to meet you officially, Sana. You certainly have your hands full, let me help."

I giggled and stretched out my hands and she passed over a few if the garments, lightening her load. 

​​​​​​"Are you wanting to check out or did you have some other things in mind? We have a changing room in the back if you wanted to try some of these on?"

Sana was pleasantly surprised at how kind AlisonChains was -- she was honestly intimidated by the other woman when she first saw her, but now that they'd interacted, Sana could see that she couldn't be more wrong about her. "The pleasure's mine, and oh, thank you so much! You're way too nice." Sana gratefully passed her a few pieces of clothes, making her look more like a person instead of just a walking pile of clothes. "I was hoping to try some things on, but honestly, I'm probably gonna get all of these. They're all so beautiful and unique! I just need to check if I'm going to fit in them, fingers crossed."

As Alison mentioned that they had a changing room in the back, Sana realized that the store was named after her -- Chain Gang Boutique. As the pair of women walked further inside the store, Sana took note of the other parts of the store. "Wow, Alison. You've really got an amazing thing going on here. I love places like this -- one-stop-shop for all things glamorous. Reminds me a lot of New York, Fifth Avenue... I really miss living there." Sana noted wistfully, remembering the days when she was still back in Manhattan. "So what made you build something like this?"

A dishevelled Foamy wanders in, looking like he's been dragged through a hedge backwards.  Actually, he had, by that bully masquerading as an octogenarian Ethel_Scroggins who wanted the last of his werther originals.

Can you do anything....ANYTHING with me?  my nails have gotten out of control and I dare not handle my nuts.

Two stickz'uh'pp'fett for SticksCUP oh'dee'ol sea'shanty'z'uh'yer'donker.Felt'err loverd'ly and warm 'en curdlyy. The curve'tt'hom'sunn of the peacocks let his 1911's perch on th'a shoulders of their vessels pro'paine't shoulders twixtth'a dumpster fire for a heart that attracted rah'scallion'z'ett'th'uh aw'Mickeyz'gump'shucks'terdz'Oh'dee'PaddyzWickettWon11? But did they remember the 1/7/with1tie? Couldn't dance, couldn't drive, couldn't jive, en'th'attz whatz wrong with the weird''eye'z'oh'de'sea d'ea'oh'deez queer'eye'th'uh'colonz. McKeene'Eye'Th'uh'HillzHaveHerdedWerdz was set a'twix'th'err tune 'en 'eez'ead'oh'de'oh'deedz PaddyzWickettKickerrSpliff is puff'th'on for the ump'shucketh'teenth'millenium. Feelsgoodbruvverrly hating badge'errz

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