So, as many of you other moms out there know, it is difficult to find time to bathe, let alone do things like get your hair cut. Luckily since I have long hair I can get away with it by rocking a pony when things are looking bad. As I’m sure it is for you, getting out and actually having someone cut my hair is a treat. I look forward to it, I ponder the possibility of taking a risk and doing something crazy, but always wimp out. The one problem that I keep having has nothing to do with my hair, the quality of my cut, or the cost even. No, my problem lies with the stylist.
Last time we were visiting family out west, I was able to get out for a haircut. I was so excited to finally get rid of the dead ends and feel like a hottie. (well, maybe not totally a hottie, but hot-er). I walk in, willing for anyone to cut my hair. I end up with a guy who kind of reminds me of the 80’s- like if the decade could be balled up and formed into a man I’m pretty sure he would be it. It wasn’t one thing, it was the entire package. From hair down to shoes, he was livin’ la vida 1984.
Anyway, we discussed what I wanted, he nodded and we were off. Then it happened. The one sided conversation of a stylist gone mad. I heard about his ex who wouldn’t leave him alone and kept coming back for…(you know what, I really don’t want to remember that), then how global warming wasn’t real but actually just a government conspiracy, and finally something about life outside of planet earth that was real and possibly a threat. Good thing I have long hair dangled across my face to hide the disturbed and somewhat amused look on my face. Wow. The kicker of that cut was that after this abomination, he proceeded to charge me $35. Yah, not cool.
This evening, my sweet hubby got home from work at a wonderful hour and I thought I would try and run out for a haircut, since Great Cuts is open until 9. I was so excited thinking about getting rid of these dead ends. I arrived, checked the price which was $15, and was ready to begin. I am welcomed by a man named Dennis, who seems pretty reasonable. Maybe I will dodge another “crazy stylist” bullet. Alas, it was not meant to be. I think the only words I may have uttered were, “about 4 inches” and “that sounds good.” He proceeded to cut, pause, pause, chat, cackle, complain, cut, for the next hour. I really thought the cut would have taken about 30 minutes. Not so much. I definitely got in on the workplace dirt though. Did you know that some girl named Azeal, well actually they aren’t really sure how to pronounce her name so Dennis refers to her as zebra, left dirty towels in Laura’s drawer? Oh yah. And, Dennis is such a rebel that he places products from brands other than Redkin on his station. Mmm Hmm. And so on, and so on. Wow. I wish I had audio for you, because all of this loud chatter from Dennis and the other stylist Laura was in the most fabulous New England accent ever. I mean Laura, girl, amazing.
So, I have to wonder why I am attracting these crazy male hairstylists! I mean, come on! I don’t want the drama, just a cut.