Where are those scissors??

I went to get my haircut the other day. Not an experience that I’d normally find anything interesting to write about, but on this occasion, ‘twas not to be.

It was the same salon that I’ve been going to since I moved into the area nearly a year ago, but every time I’ve been, I’ve had a different stylist (indeed can’t say I’ve ever seen one member of staff twice). This last guy was an experience.

I know it’s something in the training (or the genes) of hairdressers to be quite open about themselves, and in some cases, bore their clients shitless with endless chitter chatter. (I wish they wouldn’t, but hey ho!)

Within 2 minutes of me sitting in the chair, the cutter of the day had managed to let slip that he has a highly addictive personality, and is just recovering from a severe and lengthy dependence to steroids, coke and crack. (I notice he managed to slip in the question of what it is I do for a living first though, just in case.)

Clearly not satisfied with my somewhat ambivalent response to that news, he then went on to tell me about his recent diagnosis of bipolar disorder, and the medication he’s been prescribed to keep that under control, which was starting to make him feel queasy as he’d failed to take his morning dose with any food that day.

So, right at the juncture when he’d cut one half of my hair (ie. one side was now 3 inches shorter than the other) he announces his need to take a break and get a sugar rush before he keels over.

Upon his return, he’s seems delighted to let me know of his relief at being able to see again!!!!!!! I make a mental note to have a VERY good look at the back mirror look before paying, unlike the usual cursory ‘that looks fine’, when truthfully I haven’t seen a thing.

The rest of the sitting is relatively uneventful, assisted I think, by my determination to converse no more (head buried in magazine sorts that out fairly quickly).

It wasn’t’ til I was relaying the experience to my other half later, that he pointed out this was probably a bet by a fellow colleague to freak his customers out. If that’s the case, then fair do’s and I’m sure he had a laugh doing it. Although, he can rest assured he’s convinced me to find another hairdresser next time.

If it was all true, then he needs to re-evaluate the difference between idle / mindless chit chat, and deeply personal baggage, taking into account the added nervousness of the client as he relays this whilst standing so very close armed with sharp implements!

BTW, in case you’re wondering, the cut did look fine in the end, which further supports his nib’s theory that it was in fact all a wind up. Ha Ha.