I always thought that hair salons were supposed to be for women what bars are for men.
A place to gossip about our frienimies and our significant others.
A place where they greet you by name when you walk in. (Yes, I am thinking of Norm in Cheers right now.)
A place where mindless gossip happens and your hair stylist wants to know what’s been going on since your last cut and style.
My hair stylist was not having any of that yesterday. She asked me no questions (other than, “Just a trim?”) I tried to start a couple of conversations, but that led only to one-word answers. I didn’t even get to tell her that I was engaged – and I flashed my fancy ring around a lot.
I want the full experience. While we were sitting/standing there in the blissful white noise of the blow dryer, I watched other stylists and stylees chat away about weddings to be attended and goings on at work.
Then I thought, “No, I’ve committed 2 years to this stylist and she knows how to take care of the rat’s nest on top of my head.”
The dryer turned off and my stylist turned me away from the mirror so that the flat-iron would reach my hair and instead of watching, I listened to the other conversations.
Then came that glorious moment when she turned my chair to face the mirror to reveal my new look (which really wasn’t that different – I only got an inch trimmed off).
She had parted my hair in the middle!!!!
Two years I invested in her and she didn’t know that my hair is parted on the left. The left, the left, the left. Lady, you don’t know me at all!
It was just more reason to keep seeking the female version of Cheers.