I write here because I can somewhat anonymously. So many of these stories whirling around in my head involve real people and real situations and I'm more than certain none of them would appreciate me sharing them and for certain would not appreciate my perspective. The stories to follow are written from my view behind the chair as a hairstylist. I live and work in a small town and have always worked in a more upscale salon in the area. I even owned and operated my own salon for 10 years. It was a beautiful and magical place, but took its toll in many ways. I am happy to have had the opportunity and even happier that it is said and done.
You've heard people say that working with the public can be very interesting and challenging. You really have no idea until you've done it, and after several years have collected enough interesting stories to write a book. A book has been my intention for the past 10 years. For no particular reason, I'm starting now with a story from today. (Names of people and places have been changed in hopes of not violating the silent agreement between client and stylist.)
Flip the calendar back about five years. I am the owner of my salon, have a full-time staff of about six people and am booked at least forty hours a week - usually more. A new client, who is booked with another stylist, walks in and immediately stresses out the other stylist. She is obviously high-maintenance and begins to rattle off everything from her hair mishaps to medical maladies and everything in-between. The stylist comes to me, wide-eyed and utterly freaked out, begging me to take her on as a client. Since I'm a weak manager and a people-pleaser, I agree to take her. A few minutes later, a lady with carrot-orange, so-short-it's-spiky hair is sitting in my chair. We are going to call her Shelly. Shelly is talking so hard and fast, filling me in on almost every detail of her life since 1973. I can hardly keep up with her story-telling pace, let alone get a word in. After a few hours of correctional color and cutting services, and non-stop babbling, I have a happy client who has returned every six weeks for the past several years. Shelly is always full of stories that are, at least, major life happenings if not catastrophes.
One of the main topics of Shelly's conversations are about her daughter, Jaime. Jamie is incredibly intelligent and currently at the top of her class in PA school. Jaime is very pretty and smart and has the best of everything. She lives in the city in a trendy condo that belongs to Shelly and her husband. She drives a cute sports car, supplies by her parents. Jaime hangs with the elite crowd and eats at the top restaurants, drinks at the trendy bars and shops for the finer wares at the nicest stores in the city. Jaime is living the high life and her mom, Shelly, is proud.
A year goes by as Jamie is in her element in PA school. I hear from Shelly about Jaime's success as a student and the incredible parties and dates she is experiencing. If you were to ask me, Jaime was carving her way not only in medicine, but also the elite social scene in the big city. Famous people, fancy cars, designer clothes and bags - you get the drift. Jamie was climbing the ladder of success and Shelly was a very proud parent.
Then one day, about 2 years ago.....
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