Somethings I just let go. I know I shouldn't, but I do. Getting my hair cut is one of them. I finally make an appointment and go in. It's not like I have a long way to travel. It's down the freakin block. Jeesh. Anyway, I go in and the place is deserted. It's almost 5:30, so it's understandable. "The Woman" leads me back to the chair, this small talk tone to her voice that says "damn, I was hoping you wouldn't show up." At that moment, the overly long hairs on the back of my neck stood up and screamed.
She washes my hair, asking me how I've been. I can tell she doesn't have a clue who I am either. Normally I love this part because it's relaxing. Nope. Her ring got stuck in my hair and she yanked it out. She goes on talking, not hearing my tiny yelp or the noticing the tears in my eyes. Now it's time to make the way over to her station. She walks behind me or shuffles rather. I actually turned and looked down because it sounded like she was wearing old lady house slippers.
I sit down and she begins to comb it. "How do you want it?"
"It needs to be trimmed, so take about two inches off the bottom and trim up the layers."
I'm okay with silence. It doesn't bother me to sit and not say anything. I'm in there to be kind of pampered so I want it to be relaxing. Apparently she doesn't like silence.
Any vacations this summer?
I answered no. I asked her the same.
"Yes, we just came back from Vegas. I lost, don't ask. But it's not as bad as the last time I went to Vegas. Nothing can be that bad."
Okay, that's like a book blurb on the back jacket. I'll bite. "Why, what happened?"
She's begins cutting. "We were in a horrible car accident and my mom died."
Oh jeesh... So much for relaxing. She proceeds to tell me every detail right down to her sisters arm hanging by a tendon. What is it about me that attracts stories like this?
After she pauses, I ask her. Wow, when did this happen? I'm thinking last year from the way she's talking.
"Five years ago."
Okay, maybe it was the anniversary of the accident that prompted her to bring it up, but talk about a downer. I don't have a rash on my butt right now, but would you like to hear about when I did?
She continues, cutting my hair with that sissor slide thing. I made the mistake by telling her I work for a pain doctor. Oh man, she's got pain! Leg pain, arm pain, knee and elbow pain. And every once in a while she gets a shooting pain that goes from her right big toe to her pelvis. What's all that about, she asks.
"I don't know, maybe you should go to the doctor?"
She turns on the blow dryer and shouts over it. "And I'm so depressed! I have strange thoughts about things....people."
Oh god! Why did I have to ask for a brow waxing.
So, I lay on the table in the back room and she gets out the hot wax. Now, I've had my brows done for years, I know the protocol. First one eye. Rip! Maybe quick more little spots around the nose and then the tweeze clean up.
She does the other eye Rip. And then heads for the door.
"Ah, can I see?"
Oh yeah. She hands me the mirror. Both brows are a half moon over my eyes, this pink skinned arch of question. I ask her to straightened them out, make them more thin on the ends. She looks at me like she's never had that request before. The attitude, is okay, whatever! She does one and hands me the mirror. Not wanting to be a bitch and hoping eye brows grow back, I hand her back the mirror. "Nice, thank you."
She starts to leave toward the door.
I ask, Can I have the other one to match?"
"Oh, you want the other one too? I was wondering why you were just laying there."
Don't eye brows come in a pair and don't most people want them to match? Now I remembered why I forgot to make my hair appointment!