There be unknown creatures
Hair salons are terra incognitos for most of us guys. Like mariners of the feudal world, we cross that salon threshold, and there be monsters and unknown creatures. Worse yet, we may fall off the edge into an alternative reality.
Ladies’ hairstylists exist in every city, berg, and village on earth. My sisters and neighbors spend hours visiting, yet I’ve never ventured in. It’s not like barbershops; just different. It’s like comparing a poker game with Joe and the guys versus -Who knows! Zelda’s dealing Tarot cards behind incense, veils, and curtains.
I don’t fight, I join.
Surprise, surprise; last week, after 56 years of marriage, I dealt Tarot cards, or rather Covid came, and I began hairstyling my wife’s hair. Her locks had grown mightily since the pandemic locked us in. So what was to be done?
She was becoming Rapunzel and needed a stylist quick! I was the only beautician candidate in the house.
Scissors in hand, I rose to the occasion.
As any Tarot card dealer wannabe, I plumbed the depths of my client’s mind to discover her unstated vanities and fears. I lacked head dome dryers and paraphernalia, but I made up in gossipy conversation and discount pricing.
Those cans, bottles, and paraphernalia fluff are frankly just staged settings to enhance the snip snip ambience.
Even without the fluff, unexpectedly the cutting went well, even satisfactory. My wife showed me the length, direction, and scissors angle in elaborate detail. The rat-tat-tat snip snip clip speed of her usual lady was beyond me, but in the end, our entire household pronounced the outcome “agreeable”. Judgment will come on her next Zoom meeting.
Scissor snips aren’t the main even; just foreplay
I got the clear impression that the scissor snips are merely foreplay, a preliminary part of the ritual. The essential element is the gossipping and prattle. We started the gossip slowly with the basics; Prince Harry and Megan.
“Why can’t Princes Kate be nicer to Megan?” snip, snip and snip.
“The Canadian Government should absolutely cover their Royal guests’ security costs?”
More snip, snip until we worked up the good stuff.
” To hell with Harry and Megan, I hear Prince Andrew is living in a cave somewhere and will never be seen again by human eyes. He should have stuck with Fergie.”
And so the prattle went on till I concluded this is not such a difficult job. So, I may open a salon.