Friday, April 15, 2005

A Salon Story

After postponing my visit to the hairdresser for several weeks, I finally made the trip last evening. Historically no hairdresser has understood what I want done, so of late I pick salons at random, the cheaper the better. A male with waxed arms, nail color and lipstick welcomes me.

A little dazzled by that classy touch I quickly scan the rate charts to make sure things were within my ball park. J and I wait my turn flipping through magazines trying to spot J's "most special favorite" (pink), "special favorite"(yellow) a slew of just "favorite" colors. This is usually how we spend the lobby-wait-time of our lives.

The gentleman with waxed arms is talking to a blonde who is doing almost an interpretational dance trying to explain the magic she wants him to work on her hair. He is leaning back with his arms crossed, a half smile on his face, making appropriate noises to indicate comprehension and agreement. If that is what takes to get the message across I know I will not be able to do it.

In the chair next to the blond is a guy getting a buzz. The hairdresser is petite woman lip synching and swaying to a Roberta Flack number playing the background as she snips, clips and razes. I get a sinking feeling as buzz tends dangerously close to bald. Blonde is faring quite okay but then I have no idea what her stated expectations were.

I know what will happen next and am willing to bolt out of the door. Buzz will be done sooner than Blonde and I will be on the hot seat with Roberta Flack karaoke. Almost on cue J starts to whine "Mommy my tummy hurts. I am very hungry. I want my dinner right now". I know that is a sign of absolute boredom but right now it is a means of escape for me.

I could sneak out saying the baby is hungry. Before I can act on my thoughts, Buzz is paying for his scalping and walking out. She announces my name and motions me over for my turn.

I sneak a look at Blonde, she is glowing from her soul communion with the hairdresser. J and my handbag are perched on a chair behind me. She watches me quizzically through the mirror. Karaoke is all done even before I know it. She holds up the mirror for me to admire her artwork. I commit the ultimate faux pas. I tell her to go at it again and fix the many problems I see. I even forget to smile.

She returns to my hair with gusto. Her scissors work like gardening shears through the bramble of my hair. J is looking rather concerned at this point. I assume the back view is much worse than the front. The woman is now crooning along with Flack savoring every minute of her vengeance. I look in the mirror when we get in the car and gasp in horror. J restates the obvious "Mommy, you look yucky"

8 comments:

buckwaasur said...

lol...man i hope u get better at bolting when u get a chance...

i had to learnt that stuff the hard way, while forcing myself to change from an absentminded intellectual too mildmannered to bolt before being left holding the short straw to a wily streetsmart who knows how to avoid eye contact and become inconspicious on demand...:-)))

SeaSwallowMe said...

LOL !

reminds me of the time i fell asleep, late one night after a string of long work days, in a hair-dresser's chair.

and woke up to see a scalp all ready to go "Semper Fi" -ing. :-P

Peppy said...

at the risk of seeming jobless, i've decide to dedicate this day to comment on your blogs [no no, no need to dedicate your blog-for-fans to me, but if you insist, the name is peppy with a P]

1996: scientists called to home to notice similarity betwixt self's new haircut and the cauliflower on table. sadly, they failed to explain color differences

1998: self' valiant "i am earning now" rebellion ended in a bang.or bangs actually. blinded temporarily for 3 months.

2001: justifiably paranoid mom accompanies darling dotter to wedding-stage. Self's cleverly fabricated hairpiece falls as am nodding vigorously at priest, caught expertly by aunt and stashed safely into handbag. wedding pictures ruined.

the pain of it all!

Chay said...

Lollz at Peppy's fiasco!!
Fowwie Pepps...laughing at your dispense n all!!(pun very intended!) :-)) Reminds me of my own hair piece falling off while dashing off for a dance recital!!
and Oy...HC's fan club should include me as the 'Chief- commenter'!! (all due apologies to The Chief!!) :-)) But I am jobless anyway...:-))))
HC, I am so glad you are having craic here ;-)
Laters taters!!

Gentle Sunshine said...

I simply love the way u write.

FunnyCide said...

hee hee hee.. wish I read this a few years ago when I decided to cut my sister's hair crooning to some good jazzy music.. she wanted shoulder length hair.. thanks to me.. she had to go for a bob!! :D

FunnyCide said...

dont know if it is the attention defeciency or wot.. but the small length of your posts is so easy and pleasurable to read.. short and affective... have read a few now.. lemme go back and read some more..

Gentle Sunshine said...

Sing, dance, daydream. As long as it isnt ur hair u are cutting.

:-D