A "Lover Come Back" Moment

I haven't had a haircut in quite some time. My hair was getting just a tad too Little House on the Prairie. It had been in a ponytail for about the last two weeks straight. I was sick of it, so I woke up Saturday morning and set out to get a haircut. The obvious place to go was West Hartford.  I had discovered a little place one day out exploring the shops with David. It was a really cute little brightly painted shop that had several awards on the window "Voted Hartford's Best Salon" - sorta like our D Magazine awards.

Now, I know better than to call the day of and get a decent hair stylist in Dallas. I've done it before and it's always been disaster.  But since I am not so great at learning from the past, I tried it again - how bad could it be. It was an award winning salon, right? Maybe it would be different here in CT.

I called at 8:30am and left a message. If they had an opening, they'd call me.  I made a trip to WalMart and cleaned up the apt. I got dressed and ready to go. At 9:15 the phone rang. Okay, 11:00. I'm in. I squeezed in a nail appt in Glastonbury and then rushed off at 10:45 to West Hartford in wet nails. Parking is a challenge - there are meters. (Thank you Marsha for the sock of quarters before I left!!) A space - great - I pull in at 11:05. Put in a few quarters - an hour should be fine.          

I walk in and it's a great salon - colorful, loud, busy. There are flamboyant men in ponytails and paisley and great music in the background.  The salon is packed. A giant wall of BedHead products in the back - all my favorites. Okay, I think....this is like home!  As I think I've mentioned previously, I have become a giant fan of "What Not to Wear".  I like the hair and makeup segment the best. I was in the mood to sit in the chair and say "Go for it - whatever you want to do."  I was feeling adventurous. I was getting caught up in the "salon mood".

Much to my great disappointment, I didn't get a pony-tailed, pink-paisley wearing man.  A man in beige trousers and a brown shirt came over. "Kim?"  "KIM!"  - Oh yeah, I'm Kim here, I keep forgetting.  I wave and walk over. No smile from him. I stand there for a second awkwardly and then set my purse down by the nearest chair, assuming it is his.  "Put your purse on the hook," he mumbles again and  walks over to get a smock. I look around at the other stations to see where the "hook" is and find another lady with her purse hanging on the wall.  Okay, I sit down.

He walks over and says without expression "What do you want to do today?" I take my hair out of the ponytail and say cheerfully, "We'll, I've been growing it out so I can have it all one length and......" He grunts and smirks.  I stop. "What are you thinking?" I ask. He says "WHY?"  in a really sarcastic voice.  Why what, I think....you didn't even let me finish. You've been nothing but short and grumpy and now you are making fun of me?  What's the deal? You're ruining my "salon mood".  I breathe and go on with my initial thought. "I'm growing out the top and what to cut off several inches off the back - maybe to here."  I point.  "Well, that's something we can agree on - you need to cut that off. What kind of shampoo do you use? The cheap stuff?  You don't need a haircut, you need better hair care products."  If I hadn't been in such a mood to get it cut, I might have just said thank-you and walked out.  But I was desperate. I needed the cut.

He takes me over to the shampoo bowl and magically (and without warning, I might add) he starts chatting like we are old friends. I mean, a complete physco personality change. Turns out he had an abscess in his tooth and it had been bothering for days now. After giving me the detail by detail story, he mentions that went to the dentist yesterday and got some vicodin. In fact, he was on it right now and had just given the "highlights of his career".  My shoulders tense against the cold sink.  "You're on vicodin RIGHT NOW I ask with a nervous smile."  "Oh yeah, I couldn't have gotten out of bed without it. I'm working a 2 hours sleep and I only got that because I passed out. I took a handful of advil and a vicodin to get here.  It hurts to talk, but the vicodin makes you want to talk. Makes you love everybody,"  he says as he dances me over to the haircut chair.  I must admit, at this point I was a little nervous.

"Let's dry you out before we start, " he said. (Let's dry YOU out before we start, I thought.) He put my hair up in clips and walked me over to a row of old fashioned, 1962 looking hair dryers. I couldn't believe it.  I sat down in the plastic-covered chair and he pulled the dryer over my head.  I was having a ball!  It was my own little real-life "Doris Day Moment".  I was in "Lover Come Back"......No, "Send Me No Flowers"!  All those old movies with the ladies in curlers in the salon in their dresses and heels started to come back to me. I was there - in my own little 1962 musical waiting for Tony Randall to pop in the door.  I started to grin from ear to ear - I think I even giggle out loud before I could stop myself. I probably looked like I was on vicodin.  But it was really fun!

I've rambled on and on, so needless to say, by the time I was finished, I was giving my new hair dresser a generous tip for "working through the pain" (or lack thereof), loving the salon and happy with the haircut.  That silly little hair dryer made my Saturday!  (...wonder if he'll remember me next time!)