Parody of Axolotl

There was a time when I thought a great deal about the woman that would come into my salon everyday. There were times when I would watch her when her eyes were closed while she was getting her perm or at the side when she was talking to one of the customers or stylists there, noticing her vibrant moments that would coincide with the jiggling of her fat. Now I am that fat woman.
She came in a month or two ago, when she needed to have her fixed up so that it would help make her cheeks less noticeable. I was working right next to the stylist helping her out, and I laughed a little thinking, "You'd need to fatten up your hair if you want it to look inconspicuous."
I had a difficult time concentrating on the woman I was helping out, trying to make sure I was doing her third dye job that month correctly so that she didn't leave here wanting to come back for another. Her facial features allowed for her to get away with it though, with her bone structure in her face practically chiseled by some high power to give her a soft tone with eyes that had a ragged quality, which didn't have her looking exhausted, but experienced. Despite these features I kept looking on the other side though, examining that fat woman: her hair was curly and short, almost like she was wearing a fake afro; she also had these lamb legs for arms, with the features of it and everything, except the skin looked fine with all that cellulose. Her face was a little pretty, almost like a really ornate globe with eyes that lifted up a little at the end, ready to start an argument at any moment.