Warning - this will probably be FAR too much information about my haircut. :) I did an internet search to find a nice salon near my apartment. When I found one that had won a Time Out New York award, I thought that sounded fine. I made an appointment online for last Saturday. Late Friday night, they sent me a text to confirm the appointment. Good thing I didn't go to bed very early on Friday.
After doing a little necessary pre-Flea Market shopping, I went Saturday to my appointment. The salon was nice and airy, and I was happy to see I was neither the oldest customer there, nor was I the youngest. It looked like a nice mix of neighborhood gals. The stylists and the staff seemed very friendly. I took a seat and waited a bit for my appointment. The receptionist offered me many choices of beverage, but I decided to wait a bit.
I waited maybe fifteen minutes past my appointment time, but with today's smartphones, I kept myself occupied. Finally, an attractive gentleman introduced himself, apologized for being late, and took me over to his station for a consultation. After he told me his name, I realized the owner of the salon would be doing my hair. Well, ok then. We chatted for a few minutes, I told him what I thought I might want. He said the shape of my current cut was fine, it just needed trimmed and perhaps texturized on top. I agreed, so he sent me to be shampooed.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, a salon shampoo. There's nothing like it. I just adore it. And this gal was quite good, with a nice strong style and a bit of a head massage included. Very nice. She then took me back over to the station and began blowing my hair dry. I thought that was a bit odd. But I figured the owner/stylist liked hair to not be dripping wet. But she continued to blow my hair dry, then she got out the brushes and begain styling my hair. All of sudden I began to worry I had only made an appointment for a consultation and not a cut. So I asked her, by using the international sign of turning my fingers into scissors, was I getting a cut, too? She said, yes, he would be cutting my hair. Whew.
I'm not really very chatty when I get my hair cut. I like to chill out and just be quiet. Also, since I don't have my glasses on, I can't see a thing, which makes me uncomfortable and also makes me hear less well. I have no idea why, but it's true. The owner/stylist, though, sat in a chair and brought my chair to his level. While he trimmed my hair, he chatted away. I tried to keep up my end of the conversation as best I could, and he was quite charming, but I was grateful when he stood up to do the rest of my hair, and he stopped chatting. All of a sudden, he says, "you have much more hair than I thought. I'll thin it out," and he proceeded to swipe the scissors, over and over, through the thickness of my hair, along with trimming the length.
Considering most of the stuff we sell is priced at around $1, we did really well! We didn't make as much money as last year, but oh well. I also forgot to get a photo with all of my volunteers, especially a handsome chum who is always such a big help to me, but there's always next year. I purchased more magnets for myself (last year, I got Free Man of Color, this year I got Macbeth and The Nance), and I also couldn't resist buying something from a young Newsies sales/paperboy. He was pretty adorable. Even though my feet were killing me last night and my back is really stiff today (standing for eight hours just isn't in my wheelhouse anymore), it was a great great day. Thanks to everyone for all their help and support.