Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Hairstyle is the final tip-off whether or not a woman really knows herself. - Hubert de Givenchy

I walked into the salon, relieved to be early for once, and headed into the back corner. My little 4'11" friend, Nadia, was already back there holding down the fort. She and I always sit by each other, with another girl, Monique. But the day before, a few girls had blantantly disregarded our tradition of sitting back there, and had planted themselves in our spots.

After heading into the lounge to buy a can of Diet Pepsi with the nickles and dimes I found by scrounging through my purse, I went to the front desk to see what I had on the books for the evening. The receptionist (who I still can not remember her name, regardless of how many times she's told me) told me I only had one client: a mens haircut. Sweet. I used to hate doing mens haircuts because the only ones I'd ever done was on The Honeyman or Jayar, and was very unsure with my skills. But I've had enough practice that it has become fun.

I set up my station and went back to the receptionist for my client profile paper. When I got back to my station the girl beside me (who was from the group of girls who had tried to yank our spots the previous day) told me that she had had that same client a few months before. I asked if he was OK, and if he liked a shear or clipper cut. She said he liked it long, so shears, and that all she remembered was that he was a jerk. Oh great. I tend to get the jerks.

I went to the waiting room and introduced myself to my client, and led him back to my little corner of the salon. I'd say he was mid 30s-mid 40s, not that tall, dark brown hair with brushes of grey. I asked him what he wanted done and he showed me a picture in a magazine. Basically just a long generic mens cut. Sweet.
So I asked him a few questions, how short on the neckline, how long over the ears, stuff like that. He told me I could do whatever I wanted. (Ha! That just means do it how I want it to be done, without me explaining it to you.)

I am well aware that a large percentage of the satisfaction with a mens haircut comes from the scalp massage during the shampoo. Therefore I usually spend at least a few minutes on that, depending on whether or not my back is aching. (I am too tall to hunch over someone for longer than a few minutes!) But throughout the whole shampoo my client kept staring at my chest. So that ended quickly.

As soon as I started cutting he pulled out his cell phone and started making calls. I am absolutely sure he called every single person in his address book. The conversations would go something like this: "Hey man, what's up? I just called to say hi. Yeah, I'm just sitting here, getting my hair cut. Yeah, I'll talk to you later." That entire conversation was repeated about seventeen times. I. Kid. You. Not. So here is a little pointer: please stay off your phone while you're getting your hair done, if at all possible. It is not only annoying, but NO ONE holds still while on the phone, I've observed.

Ok, so after all the calls he started playing with the settings on his phone. Then I noticed that he was holding his cell phone up, rather than in his lap. I glanced down and saw that he was in picture mode, aimed at the mirror. For a moment I thought he was just taking a picture of himself, as I had done half his head, and it looked pretty goofy. But when I moved from the back of him to the side, his phone moved angles, too. I glanced down (hello, I am standing over you, I can TOTALLY see whats going on) I saw that he was taking a picture of me. Ummm, hmmm, ok. I figured: I could either say something about it, and it can be awkward, or I can turn to my good side and suck in, hoping for a good tip. I chose the latter.

A few minutes later he handed me his cell phone and asked if I could get it on the internet. I looked at the screen, he was trying to email a picture he'd just taken. Hahaha. I said I had no idea how to get his phone online, sorry.

He told me all about his brother's ex-girlfriend, who is apparently severely mentally unstable, and how he convinced his brother to break up with her. Apparently she has the brothers name tattooed on her behind. He said, "He don't know it. She told me, and I'm telling you." I said, "And who knows how many people I'll tell?" Hahaha. It's easier for me to be silly and myself when I'm unintimidated. He told me he wanted his hair to feather over the sides; after I finished he asked me to cut some of it down...I said, "Hey now, are you telling me to unfeather your feathering?" He laughed and said he was. And then he had me cut something else shorter, and mocked the way I styled it, and then styled it himself.

When I finished and started to lead him to the front desk he said, "Hey, Susan, come here." (Susan? gag) I said, "Oh no, what did you find this time?" hahaha. He handed me a $10 tip, thweeeeet!

When we got to the front desk Nadia was there with her client. She wrote her name on one of the salon's business cards, as well as the days she is in. I did the same and handed it to my client and started to walk away. He looked at it and called to me, "Hey, where's your number?" Oh my. I replied, "The salon's number is on the front." And with that, I walked back into my corner of the salon.

Bwa ha ha ha!

2 comments:

TDawgYo said...

Hahahahahahahaha. Nice.

And I know what you mean about leaning over people. Unfortunately, my jobs require me to do so for up to twenty minutes at a time. So I have a strong back I guess? One that's starting to give out on me. Boo-urns. I think I'm going to a chiropractor someday soon.

Sariah in Vancouver said...

You go girl! lol