A good haircut is super important. It frames your face, and says a lot about a person. So I went on Yelp and researched the hair salons in Atlanta that have really good reviews. I selected one near where I live, and phoned. I got a machine. Then I went to their website and found an email address and sent them an email asking for an appointment. Weeks went by, and I became desperate. Well. . . not really desperate. . . but I was looking quite shaggy, since I hadn’t had a haircut since leaving Minnesota. (I’d been trimming my own bangs.)
When you move to a new place you sometimes get Welcome to the Neighborhood! envelopes in the mail, with coupons inside for 50 percent off one noodle bowl when another is purchased, or a free appetizer when you purchase 2 entrees. If only I’d went out for dinner, instead of using the free haircut coupon. I really liked the woman who cut my hair, she was nice. She was a Prince fan and excited to know that I’d been to First Avenue and Paisley Park, and by the time our conversation was finished, so was my sense of self. It looks as though I’d done a home haircut. . .you know. . . put a bowl over my head and cut around the bottom of the bowl.
Sadly the only wigs I brought along with me aren’t everyday type of wigs. I have either the long blonde dreadlocks or a steel grey Mary Berry type hairdo. The weather has warmed up, so wearing a hat is probably not the best choice either. I will soldier on and focus on my charm. I must also check the library for an amateur instant hypnotism book, or a win friends and influence people type tome. For the next few months it’s all about my personality.
Speaking of Mary Berry, we’re on the 4th season of the Great British Bake Off and thoroughly enjoying the puns and personalities. The marquee tent set up on the country manor house grounds is charming, and the occasional shots of nearby wildlife and pastoral beauty takes my mind off net neutrality, obvious Russian interference in our democratic process, heel height, gerrymandering, in-your-face-racism, the DOTUS (Dotard Of The United States), and now of course. . . my haircut. Oh, how I love the pastel mixers and easter egg colored kitchen islands! The technical challenge that Paul comes up with, from a recipe book found with the lost island of Atlantis, the 3D showstoppers with moving parts, and the kind help that contestants offer each other because it’s Britain, not the United States.
Kindness. So rare, and so welcome. For the next few months, as my hair grows out, I will depend upon the kindness of strangers. Remember, it’s not polite to point, the lady obviously had her hair cut that way for a reason. . . .she may be a failed novitiate, afflicted with head lice, or doing a community theatre production of ‘Wit’, and can’t fully commit to her character. Or sadly, she may have succumbed to the siren song of a free haircut coupon.