The Latest Haircut Episode

When I arrived home last Friday night, Mom made this comment upon seeing me, "You really need a haircut. Why didn't you get one sooner?" The reasons are two-fold: one is that I was fairly busy last week at work and couldn't make the crappy hours that the place holds (they are only open past 7pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays -- which didn't end up working for me). The second reason is that I was lazy and thought I could squeeze through another week before getting the hair chopped. As a result, I heard about it from Mom. And from my sister, Jamie. Upon seeing her, she made the same comment,"Look at you... you desperately need a haircut!" You would think that I could put my hair up in a ponytail with the way they were talking. Ridiculous.

So I made it a point to get the haircut this week. It worked into my schedule that I would get over there on Tuesday night. So I walked in and three of the ladies were sitting in the waiting area eating some food. As I stood there for a moment, they finally realized that I was there with a purpose. One of the older ladies asked if she could help me. They always do this. Yeah I'll take a cheeseburger, medium well, with fries and a Diet Coke. What the hell do you think I'm there for? To get my damn hair cut.

So far, no sign of Yolanda. I surveyed the scene and didn't spot her.

I ended up getting my hair cut by the pregnant Irish lady. I didn't realize that she was Irish until about 5 minutes into the haircut when she started up with the small talk. On the other hand, I did realize that she was pregnant because that was more evident. Of course, neither factors are extremely relevant, but are worth mentioning.

Side note: Did you ever run into a situation where you kept up conversation with someone just because you wanted to hear their accent? That's what I did with pregnant Irish lady. She had the thick Irish accent, you know what I mean. So I kept up the small talk because the accent was intriguing. At the same time, I wondered if anyone would ever be intrigued by my currently watered-down Philadelphia suburbs accent. When I eventually take a trip to Europe, would the people over there enjoy the way I talk or would they look at me like any other neanderthal American? Just curious...

Anyway, so the pregnant Irish lady's chair is on the complete opposite end of the room as Yolanda's. I was in the clear for the time being. She cut my hair, we continued the small talk, and other than that, it was very uneventful.

When I was done, I went to the front desk to pay. I went back to give pregnant Irish lady her tip, and then came back to the front to grab my jacket before heading out. I'm over by the coat rack, and I do a double take. There she is. She recognizes me.

So I try not to say anything and just smile.

Yolanda: Hey you... how you doin?
Me: [Making minimal eye contact] Hi... I'm good how are you?
Yolanda: I'm doing well, thanks.
Me: Ok, I'll see ya later. Take it easy.

I run out of the door, because in that brief conversation, she gave me the disloyalty look again. The "I used to cut your hair and now you come in here and use whoever is first available" look on her face. Well, at this point, I'm just playing dumb. I don't have time to sit there and wait for her, so my feeling is that I am fine with whoever is available to cut my hair as soon as I walk in. I've gone two trips now without using Yolanda. That means that if I hit three trips, it'll be like 5 months since she last cut my hair. I don't think that necessarily means she'll forget who I am, which was proven in that she remembered me this evening, but as time goes on, she might not recall my face.

I did make it out of there alive, and looking like less of a dirtball with my 'clean cut' look. Not as exciting as previous visits, but there's always next time. With my luck, next time I won't get away with a short 10 second conversation. I'm not that lucky.