I went to the SAL-on (thanks to Vidal Sassoon, it’s the only way I can pronounce the word “salon”) Saturday for a much-needed cut and highlight. I told Gina, my lovely stylist, about last week’s find (see blog name) and asked her to please look diligently for its friends. She couldn’t find any, thank goodness. (Or maybe she was just being kind and highlighted them away.)
I have no interest in getting plastic surgery—I’m fine with my wrinkles (and hope I continue to be as I get more, and they deepen, and things begin to sag, etc.). But I can assure you that I will be an 85-year-old brunette at my own funeral, so the longer I can postpone bi-monthly dye jobs, the better.
Anyhoo, back to the SAL-on. When I arrived to check in, a customer (just beyond middle age, pinched mouth, hairstyle she’s no doubt worn for the last 25 years, expensive bag and plenty o’jewelry—let’s call her Lovey) at the front desk was, I believe, making her hair appointments for the rest of the year. She spent 10 minutes consulting her calendar and scheduling dates with the receptionist, while the line of people grew behind her.
I am generally patient when it comes to things like this. I’ve had enough retail and waitressing jobs to be sympathetic to the plight of the poor clerk/receptionist/server who has to deal with the many customers who think the world revolves around them, so I try not to act annoyed or angry, because it only further stresses out the clerk/receptionist/server (and believe me, a pleasant, patient customer is a breath of fresh air to those in the service industry). So I was not angry with the receptionist, as she had already apologized to me and called for backup.
What I can’t stand are people like Lovey who think the world revolves around them. I’d like to think that if I had to take care of a lengthy transaction and there were six people in line behind me, and the poor receptionist was obviously stressed out about keeping everyone else waiting, I might say, “Why don’t you take care of these nice people while I take my time flipping through my appointment book to determine when I want my hair done for the various charity fundraisers/gallery openings/yacht christenings this year.”
Not Lovey. She knew there were people in line behind her, she just didn’t care. When she was finally finished, she received a printout with a couple dozen appointments listed on it. She then proceeded to finger the tubes of lip gloss in a bowl on the counter and ask the receptionist to tell her all about them. She listened to the receptionist, then turned a tube over in her hand and contemplated it a while before deciding that she wanted to buy it.
As I sat down for my appointment, Gina apologized for making me wait. I said it was no problem, thanks to Lovey. “Oh, I know who that woman is,” she said, and told me that during her appointment, Lovey sat under the dryer, letting her Ash Blonde #6 process for a few minutes before raising her wrist in the direction of her stylist and tapping her watch. When her stylist told her that she needed to stay under the dryer a while longer, Lovey said, “Well, my time is very important.”
Obviously not important enough to get on with her day and call to make her 2007 hair appointments from home. Or her Lexus.