Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Hair today, gone tomorrow

Life's embarrassing moments recently caught up with me. I admit there is a monumental fickle side of me which actually is not readily apparent. It involves my serial rotation of hair stylists over the past twenty years. I've lost count how many different ones there have been and my reasons for moving on and trying someone else were oddly superficial and capricious. Perhaps I just grew bored and wanted to try someone new. There was never any conflict or misunderstanding just my eventual disappearance and vanishing act. No explanation whatsoever, the girl has moved on.

A disparate ideal that hair stylists seem to possess is the notion that their patrons will stay loyal to them. In my case I acknowledge a lack of fidelity, unabashed whim, wanting to see what the next cosmetician has to offer. Most of the hair dressers I have had were very nice and had pleasant personalities. Their only sin perhaps is allowing complacency to occur, familiarity leading to a less exciting okayness and loss of edgy excitement involving my tresses.

So today I sneak out of work (official time off arranged), however it is so delicious to just walk out the door early to pamper oneself a tiny bit. I arrive at the hair salon and my stylist is just finishing up with her previous customer. There are always things to discuss and safe topics far from politics and religion to weigh in on including celebrity gossip and post holiday settling down of winter. I believe that a successful hair dresser probably has well developed social skills and allows their customer to ramble on and set the tone of the conversation. Nothing too involved, after all it is a beauty parlor. She gives me a nice hair cut which I acknowledge appreciably and leave a generous tip. Off I go and a stop at the local grocery store before I head for home to cook dinner.

Who do I encounter in the grocery isle but my former hair dresser. She looks at me and smiles and behaves exceedingly polite and gracious at our unplanned rendezvous. We chat about the holidays, make small talk and rather quickly run out of nice things to say. I am absolutely mortified because it is quite evident by my well coiffed appearance I just left the hair salon. I stammer embarrassingly and we part. I appreciated her diplomacy but would have liked to apologize but then my explanation would have been altogether awkward. What can I say, "I just wasn't feeling it anymore".

Coincidences like that are karma's way of keeping us on our toes, but let's not split hairs.


Anonymous said...


Madame DeFarge said...

I gave up going to hairdressers years ago. M. DeFarge takes his life, and scissors, in his hands and takes off the customary two inches. Works for me.

Michael said...

(Damn those malicious Chinese people that want you to download spyware and viruses.)

I used to always cry when I got haircuts. Then I cut my own hair 'cause then I had to force myself to be happy with the way I mutilated my own head. Then I grew up, and now I just go to the barber. Meh.

Do you hate it too?
"If you're going through Hell, keep going."