An Encounter with my Nemesis

As the famous saying goes, "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer". I wouldn't say that Yolanda, the lady who cuts my hair, is an enemy; in fact she happens to be a very nice person. It's just that I wouldn't want to get on her bad side. I think of Yolanda as more of an nemesis (definition: an opponent that cannot be beaten or overcome).

Those of you who are longtime RPR readers remember some of my old stories about going to get a haircut at a local shop here in Stamford. I got sucked into using one "stylist" named Yolanda for several visits, and can't seem to get away from her. It's not that she gives me a bad haircut, as I'm usually pleased with her work, but rather that she's a very intimidating character.

I needed a haircut badly. I arrived at home this weekend and the first thing Mom said to me is, "You really need a haircut" with that look on her face as if she wonders if I am her son or some stunt double from Teen Wolf. Don't get ahead of yourself, I didn't look like a hippie, but was a little scraggily along the edges. Mom suggested I go over to the barbershop at home, but that didn't really fit into the weekend's agenda, and thus I assured her I'd get the haircut early in the week.

So this evening, after work, I make it over there. When I drove by the window, I could only see one person working and wondered if they had already closed. I parked the car, ran in, and made sure they were still open. When the disgruntled Australian receptionist said that they were still open, I then ran out and put a few coins in the meter. Then I returned to the store and waited for a few minutes. As I'm sitting there, some guy walks in, with one of those obnoxious earpiece cell phone things where you can't tell if the guy is talking to you, himself, or someone on the phone. Here's what ensued:

Guy with the Obnoxious Earpiece: You guys still open?
Disgruntled Australian Receptionist: Yep.
(Time for acronyms) GwtOE: How long for a haircut?
DAR: We only have one stylist in this evening, and this guy [pointing to me] is ahead of you.
GwtOE: Oh yeah? Who's in tonight?

(Side note: There's a wall that blocks the reception area from where all the chairs are, so you can't see who's working)

DAR: We just have Yolanda here.
GwtOE: [Scared look in his eye... trying to think of something to say... same look as the one you get when you take a bite of food you don't like.... thought about pulling off the "Maybe I can act like I don't speak English, oh wait, I already blew that one since we had this conversation in English", and then just puts the earpiece back in and leaves.]
DAR: [Goes back to reading her magazine]

Unbelievable. This guy heard that Yolanda was the only person working and just took off. I mean come on, it wasn't like he couldn't wait for one person. It's not like there was a whole waiting room full of people. Something was going on.

Then Yolanda emerges from her lair. Has this pissed look in her eye. She asks the disgruntled Australian receptionist if "that guy left because I'm the only one here." Receptionist just looks up, chewing her gum, and says, "Don't know." Then she turns to me, stares me down, points at me with her right index finger, and signals, "You're next".

I think to myself, "You gotta kill her with kindness. Say something pleasant. Keep on her good side. God knows what will happen to that guy who took off."

Me: Hey! How are you doing?
Yolanda: I'm good. I've seen you before, but not in a while...
Me: [Oh god, she's on to me. Gonna play the stylist disloyalty card. I'm sweating like OJ answering the questions of the prosecution.] Yes, you've cut my hair several times before! Haven't been here in a while, as you can see [pointing to my scraggily hair.]
Yolanda: What happened to that guy that left? He musta came in here and saw I was the only one and bolted. Well screw him. I don't mean to do no harm to nobody and if he ain't want me to cut his hair, then he can go get someone else to do it. Know what I mean?
Me: Yeah I don't know what happened, he just came in and left.
Yolanda: [Starts mumbling something to herself about doing good in the world and not letting "haters" rain on her parade.]

I tried to stay quiet for most of the time she was cutting my hair, and just commented after she made the first comment. Range of topics included: Her favorite songs by The Temptations; how she supposedly studies how each of her customers' hair grows so that she can provide the best haircut possible; how some people's ears are uneven and thus it makes it difficult for her to line up your sideburns; and how she is secretly addicted to coke while having an affair with Malcolm X in the 1960's (ok, I made that last one up).

When the haircut was finished, I thanked her and assured her that I was pleased with the job she had done. Let's be serious: We can't forget that this woman has access to various razors, shavers, and sharp scissors. Making the wrong comment to her would be like throwing a balloon filled with kerosene into a bonfire. I went up to the disgruntled Australian receptionist and paid, and was sure to return to Yolanda with her gratuity in hand. I did get a smile and a thank you before I departed, so we'll chalk that up as a mild victory.

I then grabbed my coat and bolted for the door. The lady is a little nuts, but knowing that she does work the later shift there, and is always scheduled for Mondays & Tuesdays (the $14 haircut special days), then I will be sure to run into her every 6-7 weeks. And hey, she does give me a decent haircut, so I guess it's all worth it.

I just feel bad for that guy who left because she was the only option. That guy is blackballed from this place for life. Remember, "keep your friends close, and your enemies closer". Not sure who originally said this quote, but he/she may have known Yolanda back in the day.