Lavish indulgences

Today around 3pm I got this inexplicable urge to get a haircut. The last haircut I got was about 8 months ago and cost about $14 at Super.cuts. It wasn't much of a haircut, I just needed my hair shorter and it did the trick. The shortest hair on my head is at least a foot long and it's curly on the approximately 2 days a year I don't tie it up. It's quite hard to mess up a hair cut for me. Today, however, I decided I was going to go to a real hair cutting place, a non-generic, unique, one salon only no hair cutting chain.

So I pulled up my default for finding anything and everything (Google) and soon learned that there was a place only about 3 minutes out of the way on my way home from school, and it even had two positive reviews mentioning "unique decor" and "drinks and snacks". I was intrigued by the lure of food and drinks and I was looking for a non-generic hair cutting place. Also, I'm a little paranoid sometimes, and the name was a word play on "hair and paranois" and thus appealed to me. Off I went, even got a free parking spot right ouside the door, but when I walked in I knew this was about 5 notches too fancy for me. The place looked like out of a magazine! Granted, my experience with hair salons is next to nothing, but this place looked awesome. It was a mixture between a chateau, a stylish lake-side cabin and a Super.cuts on steroids. Lots of powerful, expensive steroids.

I was immediately greeted by a very stylish (without a doubt gay) man in his 50's, who asked if I had an appointment. Uhm. No. I've never gone to a hairdresser before that required an appointment. Of course I didn't say that, I just mumbled something about spur of the moment, busy schedule. He gave me a disappointed look and said that one of the ladies had an opening next Friday. He handed me a business card and as I was backing out the very stylish door in my not-so-stylish outfit, probably looking terrified and embarrassed at the same time, he said "I might have an opening at 6.30 tonight, give me a call".

I got in the car and drove home, convinced I was forever banned to the likes of Master and Super.cuts. But I was so intrigued by the decor that I called Michael (his name was on the gold on black background business card), and sure enough, he told me to come in at 6.30pm. Not wanting a repeat of my somewhat understyled appearance, I showered, changed, went to the bank (who knows, maybe hair stylists don't take credit cards, or maybe I would need to leave a cash tip), and off I went.

Michael greeted me, told me to help myself to the food and snacks (I was too intrigued by the decor and the original, at least 10 foot high ceiling to even bother with the food), and within 5 minutes I was getting a scalp massage. This was no Super.cuts 30 seconds hair rinse with Sua.ve. This was the real deal. I usually don't fuss with my hair, and I've mostly been using Burt's Bees and equally natural stuff on my hair. Michael washed/condition and who-knows-waht my hair about five times, and my scalp went from feeling warm and balmy to cool and minty and then as refreshed as it must have felt the day I was born, but I coulnd't have cared less if he was pouring radioactive shampoo on my head. I was in scalp-massage heaven. In retrospect I regret not asking him what shampoo he had used. And then buying it. For $60 without any regrets.

The rest of the hair cutting adventure was equally grand. The mirror I sat in front was gigantic, and I mean entire-wall, spotless and wow-I've-never-seen-myself-in-such-a-big-mirror-for-such-an-extended-amount-of-time large. Michael chatted away and told me about the hospice work he does (when he's not giving scalp massages or haircuts to slobby-looking people like me, I assume). He didn't look at me funny when I asked him not to blow dry my hair, but said "I can tell you don't blow dry your hair, it's so healthy and strong and free of damage, that's pretty rare with the stuff people usually do to their hair!" Wow. Usually I get something like "But it's the same price with or without blow drying."

By the time I was done and standing by the "check-out" (is that what you call it at a salon?) I didn't care it if cost $20 or $100. It cost $30 and I gave him a $5 tip, although I almost felt strange tipping him, because what I really wanted to do was thank him profusely and tell him I'd never go anywhere else to get my hair cut. ever. And that I would tell everyone I knew to make an appointment. Today.

And then I felt so utterly luxuriously refreshed and new and whole that I went and had some Sushi for dinner, all the while wishing I had asked what shampoo/conditioner/myster stuff he has used to wash my hair. I'll be sniffing my hair occassionally until I wash it again to soak up the smell. Or maybe I'll just go back for another haircut in a couple of months and make sure to ask for/buy some magic shampoo.