Hair We Go

When I asked the stylist to give me a trim, I didn’t expect them to cut off a good two inches of my hair! Now my hair just barely reaches my ears! This is the story of my bad hair day. It all started when I booked an appointment at Sara’s Beauty Salon where I'm a regular. Everyone there knows me. The day I was scheduled to come in, the salon called me and told me that instead of having my usual stylist, Kristy, give me a trim, a new employee was going to give me a trim. I didn't mind because I know, from experience, that anyone they hire is going to be completely qualified to work there. I worked at Sara’s Beauty Salon for three years before becoming an entrepreneur and starting my own beauty salon. I wasn't worried because I trusted them. I wasn't worried until I entered the salon. As I was entering the salon, a woman burst through the door, mascara running down, tears running down her face, and her hair looking like a lion’s mane. Her hair was a complete and utter mess! At this point, I was starting to get really nervous. I hope the stylist who did her hair wasn't doing my hair. While I was waiting in the waiting room, I was conversing with the different people who were also waiting. There was this one lady, Ruby, who I talked to that was sixty-five but looked like she was thirty! We talked about all kinds of stuff but mainly about classic books such as The Great Gatsby, Pride and Prejudice, and others. At one point, Ruby and I had a deep conversation about the classic book, Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. “I was always quite fond of Jo March. She had this fiery spirit and she was a very strong and willful young woman. I liked that about her.” Ruby commented.

“Hmm, I particularly admire Beth because she was kind, gentle, and sweet. She was wise and was sort of the peacekeeper of the March household. I think it was unfortunate and sad when she died, and was really a turning point of the story.”

“Fair point. Although, I have a question. Do you think Jo and Laurie should have ended up together and gotten married? I’m curious to know what your opinion is.” It was that question that caused such debate within the community of Little Women readers.

“Maybe,” I say. “I think that it was the right decision for them to just stay friends. I don’t really have a set opinion on it. How about you?”

“Well, I don’t think that Jo and Laurie shouldn’t have gotten married because they were best friends and were practically siblings. Even though they didn’t get married, they still ended up being in-laws when Amy married Laurie. Besides, if you read all the sequels then you discover that Jo is in a happy relationship with Friedrich.”

“Huh, that’s a really good point!” I said, rubbing my chin. “Well, you definitely seem to know quite a lot about the book Little Women and other classics.” I add in awe.

“I’ve been analyzing the books and the characters for years. Never thought an eighth grade project would get me so invested into a mere book.” As she says this, the new hair dresser finishes up with her current client, who looks quite distressed and fusses out the door, with a red tint starting to seep into their face. The lady from the counter called me over to the hairdresser’s station, and as I sat down on the faux black leather chair, I couldn’t help but glance in the direction of where the last client ran off to. I look back to the couch where Ruby and I were sitting, my eyes scanning for Ruby’s soft face for any sign of reassurance, but like me, she too had been shown to a salon chair, ready to get her hair done. This lady behind the chair doesn’t not appear qualified to cut not just mine, but anyone’s hair! 

Immediately noticing my fidgeting, my hairdresser introduced herself. “Why hello there! How are you? My name’s Lota! Would you like a trim or a full haircut today?”

She spun the chair to face the mirror, and that’s where I got my first good look at her. She had auburn hair, with streaks of blue, green, and purple. Oh dear, I really hope she doesn’t dye my virgin black hair hot pink.

“I’d like just a trim please. No significant length loss here.” I replied, hoping she heard me above the buzz of the salon, but she immediately started working, so maybe she heard my request. Throughout the hour of trimming, we engaged in small talk. We talked about movies, clothes, music, and tv shows. I remember her saying that her favorite movie was A Quiet Place which I thought was interesting. Lota was kind and seemed like she was sweet. I wouldn’t expect her favorite movie to be a horror movie. Additionally, I also discovered that Lota’s favorite music artist was Britney Spears and that she wanted to become the stylist for her. She just kept dabbling on and on about her passions and dreams, I didn’t mind. Before I knew it, it was already noon! I was supposed to meet Sara at 12:30 for lunch, and I had been so preoccupied reading my magazine that I hadn't even noticed how my back was now to the mirror, and that I was even facing the clock on the other side of the salon. What was taking her so long? I couldn’t see what Lota was doing with my hair. and my head was starting to feel a lot lighter than I expected. “Lota?”

    “Yeah?” She said.

    “Are you almost done? I’m meeting a friend for lunch.”

    “Yeah, I’m almost done. Just one more lil’ snip with these scissors and you'll be ready to go!” Lota chirped. 

     I let her finish and finally, she says, “I’m done.” Lota spins the sailing chair to allow me to see the finished product. Upon seeing my reflection, I shrieked in absolute horror.

“What have you done with my hair?!” I start desperately grabbing the short locks left, as if pulling at them will magically restore all the inches I lost.

      “You never really specified so I just did a pixie cut. Didn’t you want a haircut?”

      “I specifically asked for a trim! Not a haircut!” I cry through the tears beginning to well up in my eyes. My shock destroys my speech filter, and I begin to start relentlessly yelling at Lota. By now, other clients are beginning to notice, and the front counter lady appears to be pondering if she should step in. Lota’s face is plastered in confusion,and the borderline looks like she’s about to cry too.

      “I’m so sorry. I got a little too lost in conversation. I’m sorry.” 

      Now the tears begin to roll down her cheeks, she nabs a tissue from her table and rushes to the bathroom. The room is quiet, and I realize that all the eyes are trained on me. Maybe I was too harsh. I needed to apologize. Awkwardly, I shuffled over to the bathroom door, and hesitantly, knocked. There’s a faint “Go away,” from the other side, and meekly I call out, “It’s Eva, your client. I came to apologize. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It’s not that the style itself is bad, I was just a little taken aback about how much you cut off. But it’s just hair, it’ll grow back.”

      “Are you sure it’s okay? You don’t want a refund?” The voice from the other side of the door calls.

      “No, it’s okay. You‘re new here, you're still trying to get a grasp on how things work around here. I know how it feels. I used to work here.” The door swung open with a bang, once again annoying the other clients in the salon.

      “You did?” She asked incredulously

I nod my head. “Yeah. I remember when I first started working here, I accidentally burned off my client’s hair and in order to fix it, we had to cut all her hair off. She was not happy. It was all because I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing.” I laugh a little. I remember I was so embarrassed and humiliated. “I could barely bring myself to come to work the next day but I did and I got through it. We all make mistakes. I forgive you, Lota.” 

      “Thank you. I forgive you too.” Lota fiercely hugged me, almost squeezing the air out of my lungs. 

     “Dear lord, now I have to get back to work.” Lota wiped the mascara stains off her face and gave me a quick grin. “At least I only have one more client today at three.” She exited the staff lounge with me following close behind her. I paid at the counter and left with a smile on my face. I really hope Sara likes the change in style.

• • •

      “What happened Eva!? I thought you said you were getting a trim!”

      “I changed my mind,” I said. I didn’t want to get Lota to get in trouble and the look was really starting to grow on me!

      “Either way to look stunning as always. How was Lota?”

      “Thanks. Lota was nice and she did a great job. She’s a keeper, Sara.” I said.

      “Good to know. She didn’t have a whole lot of experience with hair. I had Lota practice on wigs so I could see where she was and what her strengths and weaknesses were. I’m glad she seems like she is getting better and adjusting well.”

I think Lota learned a good lesson today: pay attention while doing someone’s hair. A few months after the incident, Lota’s gotten better and has happy customers leaving the shop (when I first started hearing about the satisfied customers, I couldn’t help but think they were bribed somehow). She and I have become good friends, and started joking about “The Incident.” I like my hair better like this and am even considering getting it cut short again now that it has grown a little past my shoulders.