Confession time: I haven't had my hair trimmed since, ummm, maybe sometime around Thanksgiving. The first thing a friend said when we ran into each other Sunday was "Wow! Your hair is really long!" She left out the "shaggy and stick-straight" descriptors, out of compassion, I suspect.
It takes two weeks or longer to get in to see my regular stylist, but I wanted to at least get a trim before Wednesday's funeral. Being the proud possessor of a coupon for SuperCuts, I thought I'd take a chance on a new place after work tonight.
Good omen #1: The parking lot wasn't jammed; it looked as if I had beat the after-work rush.
Good omen #2: The salon was bright and clean, with six or so styling chairs and a generous waiting area.
Good omen #3: The only customer in sight was a man the stylist had just told to go back to the shampoo area.
This is where the luck ran out.
"Hi. What can I do for you?"
"I'd like a trim."
"OK. It will be about forty-five minutes. Would you like me to put your name on the list?"
I glanced around. Except for the guy at the sink and the stylist, I was the only person in the place.
Thinking I had misheard, I asked, "Forty-five minutes?"
"Yes, I just sent someone back for a wash and a cut."
One more look around the salon. If it took that long to wash, cut and dry one short-haired, business type guy's hair, how long would it take to trim up my over-the-shoulders, multi-layered, growing-out awkwardly mane? A forty-five minute wait, plus the same again for the trim...an hour and a half of my time, just to take advantage of a $9 haircut coupon?
O-kay then. I politely said no thanks, and went back out to the car.
I think I'll just wear a hat Wednesday night.