I went to a professional a few weeks ago to get my hair cut. When my hair is long, I usually just cut it myself. And usually, if I feel like I really need a good “evening out” I go to Cost Cutters and the like. Well, a very nice salon – the kind that actually washes your hair before they cut it, offered a great deal for new customers, so I made an appointment. I hemmed and hawed about going, and almost canceled the appointment, but Ben encouraged me to go and enjoy myself. (I had recently butchered my bangs in a tragic, “Hey, I like those chunky looking bangs. I bet I can do that….” accident too, so I really needed some help.)
Holy Cow. What a treat. First, Maurine – my stylist, sat me down and listened to all my hair complaints. Then she asked me what my dream hair looks like, does, how much time I’m willing to spend/day on my hair, what kind of shampoos I use, if I like my hair to look full, or if I’m striving for the flat-ironed, smooth look, etc. Then, she washed my hair – twice – with some incredible smelling product. After that, I could barely walk back to the chair I was so relaxed.
She combed it all out and applied some also incredible smelling oil to my hair and neck. Oil? On hair? Never heard of it. I guess it brings out shine and smells good. OK. I was good with that. Finally, the cut. Very nice cut. Then the style. I can not remember the last time someone styled my hair. Prom maybe. (I did my own hair for my wedding…and you can tell. Oh well…) Anyway, I was so thrilled with my experience I was literally doing a little happy dance out the door.
Then she said the evil words all stylists say when you are leaving, “Shall I make your next appointment for you?” Despite all our lovely chatting, she hadn’t picked up on the fact that I am not a repeat customer. What was I to do?
She caught the deer in headlights look on my face and then asked the other evil stylist question, “How often do you typically get your hair cut?”
Insert awkward pause and nervous laugh.
She was a smart one, I’ll give her that. She said, “How about 8 weeks from now. That’s a little farther out than I’d like, since we do need to get the bangs back to normal, but I think we could still make it work.” (Well, that was a good point.)
“How about 12 weeks, and how about I call you later and figure out when in the world that is…” (Stalling, redirecting…I was sure I was on my outta there!)
“Let me see here. Let’s do 10 weeks and I’ll put you down for 8:30?”
I left with every intention of calling later to offer some lame excuse why I couldn’t make it. A few weeks have gone by. Here’s why this is a giggle post.
I’m counting down the days until that blessed day and hoarding every little bit of change and every dollar I get out of the laundry and sticking it in my hair cut envelope. I can not wait to go back!!!
That Maurine is very good at her job. She’s got me wrapped around her little finger!
The other morning we were all poking fun at Libby for drinking so much orange juice. She loves the stuff. So, we all finished giggling and smirking and predicting she would have to move to Florida to keep up her little habit, when she said, completely straight-faced…
“I’ve always been a heavy drinker.”
We are all still laughing about that one!!