Believe it or not, I haven’t had a serious session at a beauty salon for about eighteen years. I am not counting a little trim I had a couple of years ago when I thought it was time to even up the spots that I had cut by myself and decided the effect was less than pleasing. I know I bore everyone by telling the story of how much I save by cutting my own hair and being so frugal in never ever buying a latte because Seattle has the best water in the country which comes right out of the water tap.
But to break my record of never paying to get my hair done it took a remark blurted out by my date who noticed a lock of hair dangling when I took off my signature hat the other day. I called the hair salon with Sam in the title and asked for an appointment. None was needed so I drove over and walked in to see a line of people waiting to be called. I visited with a few people and then glanced at my watch to notice that quite some time had passed. I was about to get up and leave when my name was called. It was too late to chicken out so I followed the beauty operator to the chair and let myself be shampooed and was soon aware of the snipping sounds as my hair was being trimmed around the nape of my neck. Yes, I know that some people call the beauty operator a hair stylist but no matter. They both are supposed to make women look more beautiful.
I shortened the experience by not subjecting myself to the hair dryer but decided to let it air dry after getting back home. Before I left I was offered mousse to tame my thinning locks that were flying about as my hairdresser said, “No extra charge.” Before I got up to leave I remarked, “Where’s Sam? I don’t see any men in the shop?” and was told that he died a couple of years ago. Since hairdressing has long been a female occupation I didn’t miss the male whose name had been this shop’s trademark for years. I began to reminisce about earlier times in my life when I had the choice of being a school teacher, a typist, a nurse or a hairdresser. Even though my senior high school adviser suggested that I become a typist in order to stay in my hometown and help take care of my widowed mother, I chose a teaching career in order to fulfill our family goal of a college education for every one of us children.
As I walked out to my car I thought how lucky I had been not to choose this occupation for my life’s work. I would not have been a gifted beauty operator and our family goal of everyone gaining a college education would not have been realized. I silently thanked my neighbor for her recommendation of this particular hair salon. This shop was right on target—no appointment necessary, the price was right and I was in and out in no time. Besides, while sitting to take my turn, I joked with people willing to visit with this lady in waiting. One remarked that I ought to be a comic to which I responded, “Well, funny you should say that. I already go on the comedy stage and joke about dating.”
When I suggest to my date that he spends too much time watching football he comes back with, “You spend a lot of time on stage.” And then I admit that each person has to march to a different drummer and no one can judge what another enjoys doing.
I know darned well that I will never engage in dressmaking, gourmet cooking, doing my own gardening or engage in hairdressing. But I don’t talk about what I can’t do. Life is full these day doing what I enjoy and what keeps me fit. I try not to sweat the small stuff anymore and since life is short, I have stopped trying to change the world all by myself. As I declared on New Years Eve, there may not be world peace but if I don’t let the state of the world overcome me in my little corner of the earth, I can still find happiness.
Georgie Bright Kunkel is a freelance writer who can be reached at gnkunkel@comcast.net or 206-935-8663
