Dream (with some poet names removed to protect the innocent)

I walk into my usual hair salon. A male hairstylist runs to Dede (my hairdresser) and says "your client came in first, you win." They had some kind of bet between each other. Dede says that since I got there first, I'd get a bonus. Then we consults about what I want done to my hair. Turns out I got a perm (!!!) the night before by another hairdresser. I say I wanted volume and body for my sister's wedding. Another hairdresser comments that she' so sick of flat hair. Interestingly, she has very flat hair. Dede says my hair looks good. I say I don't like the short layers she cut into my hair last time, so only trim my bangs. We discuss coloring options, but since I just got a perm, that might not be a good idea. I start to wondering why I even came in.

Dede sends me into the spa in the back with a pumice stone topped with exfoliating gel and another pumice stone with a wooden handle. This is my complimentary bonus for arriving first. She gives instructions on which tub to soak my feet in, I'm a little confused but go back. There's a lot of young girls (teenagers, maybe younger) back there, being loud and a little rowdy. It doesn't strike me as the serene, relaxing scene that a spa should be.

I go into a steam room (the steam part is off) -- fully dressed, mind you. Three male poets of differing Asian descent are there. We take turns reading from Nick Carbo's book, Secret Asian Man. One of them starts feeling dizzy. I tell him he's getting hives on his face. We leave the room for air.