Living full time in an RV means that I don't have my favorite (and trusted) hair stylist nearby. I wear my hair long so I can go longer between haircuts, but I still need to find someone new to cut and highlight my hair every 2-3 months.
Taking the advice of a fellow RVer, I Google the town I'm in along with 'Best Hair Salon' and look for good reviews. This week, I found a local hair salon with two good reviews for Cindy (not her real name). I called and booked an appointment.
Two days ago, I drove to the hair salon which is in a stand-alone building on a stretch of 2-lane blacktop highway outside of the small town we're in. I expected a normal 2-hour highlight and haircut. Instead, I got 5 hours of crazy. Here's what happened:
1:33 pm -- I arrived a few minutes past my 1:30 appointment time. The front door was locked. Weird. I could see people inside, so I knocked. Cindy (not her real name) answered the door and let me in. We introduced ourselves to each other. Cindy explained that there was an attempted robbery the previous evening, so she's keeping the door locked. Cindy said she had to finish up with her current customer (a man), and she asked me to have a seat.
1:51 pm -- Cindy is still working on the same gentleman's haircut. She was trimming around his ears when I arrived, so I had mistakenly figured she was almost done. I text Terry:
- 21 minutes after my start time and I'm still waiting
2:05 pm -- Cindy finishes with the gentleman's haircut. He pays and leaves. Cindy locks the front door behind him. Now, it's just me and Cindy in the shop.
2:10 pm -- Cindy has been talking about the attempted robbery and is visibly upset. She tells me she needs a smoke and starts fishing around in her overly large handbag. She can't find her cigarettes and accuses her Mother of stealing her last cigarette. Cindy informs me that we are going to have to drive down the street to get more smokes. I agree because I want her calm while she's doing my hair. And, what the heck - I'm up for an adventure.
2:15 pm -- Cindy rummages around in her handbag and eventually locates her car keys. She locks up the shop and we go out to her truck. I clear a couple of toy rifles off of the passenger seat and the two of us get in. Cindy doesn't put her seat belt on, she just tucks it under her left leg. We drive about a mile down the road to a drive-through cigarette store. Cindy has to take her left hand off the steering wheel a couple of times in order to grab her seat belt and tuck it back under her left leg. Cindy buys one pack of cigarettes (cash) and we return to the shop.
2:30 pm -- We're back at the shop -- standing outside. Cindy rummages around in her handbag and eventually locates the shop keys. Cindy says she's been up all night crying about the attempted robbery. At this point, I'm thinking of leaving. I offer to come back the next day, but Cindy says no. I stay because I have an important meeting next week and I want my hair to look good. I'm here -- let 's get it done. We go into the shop, and then I go out back with Cindy while she smokes her cigarette. Cindy is still taking about the attempted robbery.
The Attempted Robbery Story: Two twenty-something men entered the shop just as Cindy and Beverly (not her real name) were locking up at the end of the day. One man asked to use the phone. Cindy pointed to the front desk phone, but he said he needed her cell phone so Cindy handed it to him. The other man asked to use the rest room and headed towards the back of the shop. About 30 seconds later, a cop walked in and asked the man what he was doing there. The guy with Cindy's phone said his truck broke down. The cop asked where his truck was -- and his story quickly fell apart. The cop called for back up. Five or six cop cars showed up with their lights and sirens going. The cops asked a lot of questions and arrested the two men. Cindy was so upset that she called her Mother and asked her to come and drive her home. When Cindy's Mother arrived at the shop, she went to use the bathroom and a drug pipe fell out of the toilet paper roll. Both men had drugs on them, and one had a large bowie knife.
2:35 pm -- Cindy tells me she is worried that customers will stop coming to the salon because of the attempted robbery. I tell her that random bad stuff can happen anywhere. Cindy calls the police and asks if the two guys are still in jail and they tell her yes. Cindy seems greatly relieved. Then, the police call and ask Cindy some questions. She seems upset. After she hangs up she tells me that she hopes the cops don't find out that she never paid for her speeding ticket. She mentions this several times during the afternoon.
2:40 pm -- Cindy has been calling me 'Sugah' and 'Baby Girl'. She asks me my name again and I tell her. We discuss what I need done. I tell Cindy I just want some new highlights and a trim. She looks at my hair, tells me its damaged and that more highlights will just "melt" my hair. She suggests a 'shadow' with 'stripes' -- which is dark underneath and chunky stripes of color on top. I'm up for a change, so I agree. Here's a couple of examples of a 'shadow' hairstyle:
2:45 pm -- Cindy pins about half of my hair on top of my head, and applies dark brown dye to the lower half. A police car pulls up in front of the salon and Cindy unlocks the front door. The cop and Cindy discuss the attempted robbery while I sit with dye in my hair. The cop tells Cindy he can't find her in the system. He asks for her driver's license and she tells him some story about 'a different name'. The cop asks who I am, but Cindy can't remember my name. I introduce myself to the cop. The cop explains that he just happened to be driving by the shop the previous day when he saw "two meth heads" heading towards the shop. He couldn't think of any reason why they would be going into a beauty salon, so he turned his car around, entered the shop and stopped the robbery. Eventually the policeman leaves and I remind Cindy to lock the front door behind him.
2:50 pm -- Cindy resumes working on my hair and starts applying the highlights. She explains that "dye stops but highlights don't", and that highlights can melt hair. I am increasingly nervous about the constant interruptions, the fact that Cindy is not setting a timer or paying any attention to the time, and that my hair might melt. Cindy tells me again that she cried all night and didn't get any sleep and she asks me to keep track of the brown dye vs. blonde highlight sections. I also notice that the brown dye and blonde highlight chemicals are sitting in identical bowls next to each other. I become increasingly terrified that Cindy is going to dip into the wrong bowl, or that I'm going to forget if she's on brown or blonde. Each time she starts a new section, she asks me "brown or blonde?", and then giggles when I answer.
3:00 pm - Cindy's phone is buzzing constantly with incoming calls and texts. Each time, she states that she's not going to answer it, then she stops working on my hair and answers it. Around 3:00, she can't find her phone, so she asks me to call her phone number. I do and she locates her phone.
3:15 pm -- Cindy notices my eyebrows are blonde and slaps some brown dye on them. A few minutes later she asks me how they look and I notice she missed about 1/2 inch of each eyebrow. She paints more brown dye on them.
3:30 pm -- This is the time I should have been done. But alas, Cindy is still working on my hair and we get more interruptions. Her son has been calling her about money. Cindy tells me she may have to leave me alone in the shop (with the dye and highlight chemicals on my hair) while she runs out to wire money to her son. Thankfully, a relative of the owner - let's call her Sally -- stops by with her dog. Cindy asks Sally to send money to her son via "Walmart to Walmart because it's the cheapest". But, Sally says the lines are too long at Walmart, so she suggests another store. Sally calls the other store and tells Cindy that it only costs $12 to send $100 at the other store. Walmart to Walmart costs $10 for $100. I'm thinking that either method is exorbitantly expensive and would never do it that way. Cindy calmly says, "Oh, $12 that's not bad" and she hands Sally $112 cash. Sally and her dog leave the shop. We lock the front door again.
3:45 pm -- More of the attempted robbery story comes out. The salon owner's 22-year-old grandson Charlie (not his real name) was at the shop the day before rummaging through the drawers. Cindy is pretty sure the two guys who showed up to rob the place are friends of the owner's grandson. The owner is clueless about her grandson's real character. Cindy keeps talking about how the two guys might have hurt her if the cop hadn't shown up. Cindy also tells me that Charlie's Mother died in a car accident. Then, she says "Don't ask me how she died". I'm thinking "
you just told me -- in a car accident". Cindy proceeds to tell me that when Charlie was little his Mom and Dad had split up. His Dad convinced his Mom to try to patch things up and invited her to go somewhere in the car. The Dad got the car up to about 50 miles an hour and then jumped out of the car. The car slammed into a tree and killed Charlies Mother. Charlies Dad is in jail for murder. Charlie was raised by his Grandmother. Charlie also has a 23-year-old cousin (or friend?) who is on life support in the hospital. Cindy thinks one of his friends gave him antifreeze along with, or instead of, his drugs.
4:00 pm -- After hearing all these stories, I'm getting worried about Charlie coming back to finish the robbery or to harm Cindy. I'm also worried about what Cindy is doing to my hair. I think about asking Terry to come and sit guard while she finishes, but I have the truck and Terry is at the campground with no vehicle. I text Terry:
- Still here. Should be done at 5:30
- Long story to tell you
4:15 pm -- More stories while Cindy works on my hair. She says "Did you hear about the "Smith (not their real name) Donuts murder?". I said "no", so Cindy proceeds to tell me that the Smith family owns the donut shop two doors down and that "they don't believe in banks." Two years ago, the family's 18-year-old son was taking a nap in his room when his Mother, Father and 16-year-old brother came home. The 18-year-old heard someone fighting with his Dad so he went out to investigate. Two men were in the process of robbing the family of their cash, the 18-year-old tried to help and one of the robbers shot and killed him. Cindy says at least no one was killed at the hair salon. I glance over to make sure the front door is still locked.
4:20 pm -- Cindy has been taking smoke breaks in the back yard of the shop. At one point she goes to the back door, laughs and says "Oh, the back door has been unlocked for the past hour"
4:30 pm -- I am becoming increasingly scared. I text Terry:
- Me: Any chance you can bum a ride here?
- Me: My battery is about to die
- Terry: No don't see how why?
- Me: I'd feel safer if you were here
- Terry: Huh? Why?
- Me: Attempted robbery here last night. 2 druggies in jail. One still loose.
- Me: It's getting dark. Just me and Cindy here.
- Terry: Have your pepper spray? Have someone walk out with you. Is she packing heat?
- Me: No. Don't know.
- Terry: Call me
- Me: Now? Can't right now. (due to the chemicals in my hair)
4:40 pm -- With chemicals and foils all over my head, I unlock the front door, go out to our truck and retrieve my phone power cord. I go back inside, lock the front door, and plug my phone in. At least I'll have a working phone so I can call 9-1-1 if needed.
4:45 pm -- Cindy removes the foils, washes the chemicals out of my hair and tells me how beautiful I'm going to look. She tells me (again) that I'm going to look 10 years younger. She laughs and says "the price of beauty is pain".
5:00 pm -- Cindy mixes up some "toner" all the while muttering about what an excellent chemist she is. She warns me to never let anyone put a 30x something-or-other on my head because it will melt my hair. She said she's using a 20x something-or-other. Cindy applies the toner and leaves me with my head in the washbasin while she goes out for a smoke and more phone calls.
5:15 pm -- While I'm prone at the wash station, Cindy starts cleaning up. She tallies up my bill on a little piece of blank paper and informs me the total is $198. $10 for the eyebrows. $10 for the hot oil treatment, etc. Cindy gallantly informs me that she is taking $50 off my bill because "it has taken so long". She asks me "how does $148 sound?" and "Are you paying cash?" There are Visa and Master Card logos on the wall, so I tell her I'd like to pay by credit card. She said that won't work, so I offer to pay by check and she reluctantly agrees to accept my check.
5:20 pm -- I don't remember what happened around this time. More horrifying stories. Cindy still working on my hair. Me still scared.
5:50 pm -- Cindy finishes putting the hot oil treatment on my head. She wraps my head in a plastic bonnet that ties under my chin and puts my under the hair dryer "for ten minutes". I send a text to Terry:
- Under the dryer. Will be here another 25"
- She's packing. Cindy said to tell you she's sorry for taking so long
6:05 pm -- I've been under the hair dryer for 15 minutes and Cindy in on the phone. I get up, interrupt her and tell her it's been 15 minutes. She says "That's ok, you can be under there for 20 minutes". I tell her I'm done, so she ends her phone call and washes the hot oil out of my hair. Cindy tells me (again) that the color has come up perfectly and that I'll look ten years younger. I just want to go home. Cindy says it will take only 10 minutes to cut my hair. All I need is the ends trimmed. I tell Cindy that I'll just let it air dry -- no need to blow it out. I want to go home!
6:30 pm -- Finally done! It's dark outside. Cindy locks up the shop and we walk out to our trucks together. As I'm getting ready to put the truck in reverse, I look over and Cindy is signalling to me. I roll down my window and she hands me two of her business cards.
Before Cindy:
After Cindy:
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