Ok. i like my hair, i admit
it. I freely admit it. It's ok, i am vain about it, i have
soft, shiny, smooth hair. Others like my hair almost, but not quite, as
much as i do. On the other hand, i don't put a lot of effort into
my hair. I do have two different types of shampoo and conditioner
that i alternate using and one of them is a salon product (although i am
rather unhappy with the current salon product that i am using and will
not be buying it again). But these are the only products i use and
it only gets one brush a day, after i get out of the shower. In
fact this is one of the reasons i like my hair so much, it does what i
want it to with minimal effort.
I have never really cared overly much who cuts my hair. I
have a very simple hairstyle to cut and just about anyone with 20
minutes training and their own pair of scissors could handle it.
While i was in school and moving around and such, i probably had 15 or
20 different people cut my hair. I don't think i can ever remember
being disappointed much with any one job. I'm just easy going in the
hair department.
With the exception of Vinny, before moving to Vancouver i doubt i
could tell you if i ever even had the same stylist more than once.
I mean they have a lot of turnover at Supercuts you know?
(oh my god, i don't believe it, they have a
website!!!)
Vinny was an experience all to himself. He was my hair
stylist (if by stylist you mean barber) for my time in Kingston while i
was going to School. Vinny had a lot of things going against him.
For one he owned his own shop, a 70 year old dilapidated shack, it was
dirty, dingy and old. For another, there was always a line up of
about 4 in front of you, no appointments. It did take him an
average of 10 minutes per haircut though. For another, pretty much
the only dialogue you would find in the shack was about hunting or
fishing. For a last, about three times a year the shop would be
closed for a week with a sign on the door that would indicate which
hunting season he was closed for. On the other hand he had
two very important things going for him; a haircut cost $4.50 (i tipped
to $5) and he did a good, fast job.
When i moved to Vancouver 4 years ago, i sort of looked around for
a Supercuts or some other chain of Hair Salons because they tend to be
the cheapest but soon discovered that i lived in the wrong place for a
chain of hair salons. I scoped out and went into a place here one
day, basically because it wasn't horribly expensive, i needed a haircut
and it was close. Twenty dollars seemed like a little much at that
point to pay for a haircut but it was as satisfactory an experience as
every other i had ever had so this is the place i went back to.
After i had been there a few times, a few times of answering the
question, 'who would you like to see,' when making the appointment,
'whomever,' i started asking for a specific person. I guess Kane
had done my hair a couple of times in a row and had made the effort to
give me his card. I had liked what he had done to my hair and it
now seemed easier to just say Kane when asked the question. Before
you know it, i have a stylist.
I get to go around saying things like, 'i have to go and see Kane
today,' or 'I have to consult with Kane before i choose a colour for my
hair.' Very pretentious and cool sounding. I began to like it. I
began to like having an ongoing conversation that just took 7 weeks off
in between. With Kane i began to experiment a little, i coloured
my hair for the first time with Kane, i streaked it as well. I
liked Kane. We had a relationship. As i understand it, this is
something that people do all the time, especially women-folk.
People have important relationships with their stylists.
Well, a strange and unsettling
thing happened to me on Thursday. It had been two months since my
last cut, i was getting shaggy, so i called up the salon and asked for an
appointment. When i was asked the question, i said Kane. Only
this time it met a sort of shocked silence. Kane had left two months
ago, didn't i know this? (as if i keep tabs on the goings on of a hair
salon) I was taken a little aback. What did they mean Kane was
gone, Kane was my guy, Kane did my hair. Most importantly, i walked
into the salon on an early Saturday morning, closed my eyes and drifted
away, answering his questions about my life on autopilot as he cut my hair
without asking how i wanted it.
That was the most important thing about our relationship i think.
We didn't have to talk about my hair anymore. I didn't have to
answer the questions about what to do with it. We knew, he did the
same thing each time i came in. The most we did was banter about
whether i was going to let him colour me again soon. I didn't have
to answer difficult questions early in the morning. He knew what to
do.
I think i recovered ok. I answered her questions. Yes i
would like to make the appointment still. Yes it would be for
Saturday morning at 10. No i didn't care who the appointment was
with. No, i didn't care if it was a man or woman. Yes, someone
named richard would be fine. Sure it was great that i would
be VERY happy with richard. She made a point of
stressing how happy i would be with richard. Perhaps she
understood that losing your stylist was a traumatic experience.
After this i gave it no further thought. (ha! do you believe this.
i kept wondering what had happened to Kane and knew that i was going to
miss him). Saturday morning comes along and i leave the house just
slightly too late to be on time. I walk fast but i do arrive 2
minutes late. For some reason it was in my mind that i had to make a
good impression on the new stylist. Why? I don't know, don't ask me such
things, perhaps i have a hyper-polite gene or something. I am told
that he would be with me in a second or two (Kane was always ready for me
when i arrived, but i don't dwell on this fact).
I sit and read, for some reason, a little discomforted. I
don't know why, a new stylist has never bothered me before. A woman
comes in and sits down beside me, she is wearing a Queens sweatshirt and
whereas this might be enough for me normally to strike up a conversation
something about today makes this impossible for me.
After reading for a while i realize it is 20 after 10. Twenty
minutes? They would keep me waiting this long when i am trying to
make a difficult and possibly traumatic transition to a new stylist?
By this point i think i have allowed myself to think of this situation
within myself as perhaps a little difficult for me to have to deal with
all on my own. I am just starting to have thoughts like, 'how dare they do
this to me. first they let Kane go, now they let me wait for 20 minutes
for his so-called replacement. this richard?' and 'I'm going to get
up, walk out of here, without saying anything to them and just try another
salon.'
Moments before i am thinking about allowing myself to come to some
sort of conclusion, the receptionist speaks to me. 'Finally,' i
think to myself. Only it is not good news. Apparently they
have made a mistake. they hadn't told richard about my
appointment they told him that he had to be in the salon at 11. The
receptionist tells me that i can reschedule with richard or Fiona
can take me right then. Well, i certainly don't know richard
from adam and have no idea if he is worth a reschedule (i think it would
have to be cyndi crawford cutting my hair in the nude for me to readily
admit they are worth a reschedule at this point) so i say i will go with
Fiona.
Well, Fiona is annoying. She starts the most pedantic annoyingly
meaningless conversations about nothing. Even when i try to make it
interesting she injects dullness right back into it. right now, i tell
you, i am missing Vinny. talking about hunting would have been far
less painful.
On top of this, she manages to pull my hair while she is cutting it
with the thinning scissors. More than once, more than twice. I
guess the one good thing to come of all this is that she actually does a
good job in the end. My hair looks good. But did i mention
that i have never had a bad cut in my life and that most semi-trained 11
year olds could do a passable job of it?
When i get to the counter to pay i ask the receptionist to put a
couple of extra dollars on the interac for a tip for...and i ask her name
again, because i have forgotten it (in fact at this point i am not even
sure it is Fiona anymore but that name works as well as any other).
The receptionist tells me the name and even helpfully searches out and
gives me her card. I didn't have the heart to tell her that i wanted
her name so that i could ensure that she never cut my hair again.
you know how people have a rebound girlfriend or boyfriend after
they break up with someone. well, i am considering Fiona my rebound hair
dresser. At least i don't have to think about this again for
another couple of months.
