I mean it. Just say no. Even if he says he is a well-known salon owner and pretty well know instructor. Even if he hands you a magazine that has an article published about his patented cutting style. EVEN if he recently cut ladies’ hair at the White House (including President Obama’s secretary) who then modeled for a fundraiser. Please, don’t give in when he says “trust me” and opens a very fancy case of scissors. Did I mention he is from Turkey?
The first sign of panic begins when he takes my shoulder length hair and cuts 3 inches from my scalp. “Trust me”, he repeats. Edward speaks fluent Turkish, not English. Should I have wondered if these words made up the foundation of his vocabulary? A few times I said “you are funny” and he replied, “I’m sorry.” My confidence is headed downhill, but the cut was already in progress.
The shortness of breath, hard to swallow panic takes over when the Turkish stylist takes out his scissorhands. Not Kidding. He slips these claws onto his first 3 fingers and starts sweeping them through my hair. Running out of the salon screaming would have been understandable. BUT NO…I have slipped into the default of giving someone a chance, being taken in by their story and wanting them to be successful.
Did I mention blow drying/styling your haircut costs extra? So when the cut is over I am asked if I want a blow dry I am finally able to use the word ‘no’. Unfortunately, another Turkish stylist is commenting on Mr. Scissors’ artwork, my “sexy hair,” and suggests a volumizing cream. He then communicates in turkish/english to Mr S. that the blow drying should happen free of charge this time. It doesn’t make things better, nor does the cream.
Edward ends the cut with the flair of a painter unveiling his newest watercolor. I smile and get a Turkish kiss on the cheek. I have to pay, I will NOT cry in the salon.
New discovery: One person washes your hair, a different one colors it, a different one cuts it. Apparently you are expected to tip each separately. Does anyone know how much to tip the hairwasher?
Lyndsay thankfully has the turkish(?) girl who gives her a darling cut. Free blowdry/style as well. I bet they don’t charge for that in Turkey.
I am quiet in the car, then we laugh about the experience.
Today I am not laughing. I keep passing the mirror and feel teary. I think Edward Scissorhands gave me a mullet. It’s not funny.
“Can you imagine life without taking risks”, Lyndsay asks me. Well…no. Risk is part of our theme: Adventure On. I need to hold my risk expectations loosely.
But really, just say “NO” if you get seated in Sir Scissorhands salon chair.
Monday, I am getting another haircut.