Over the years, I have suffered from dreadful incompatibility with my hairdressers. While everyone likes to look nice, I do find my hair cut can be one of the things that gets shoved down the "to do" list when busy - I just grow my hair longer for a while. This is partly because I dread the hairdresser experience...
Don't get me wrong, I love having my hair played with, washed, the smells, the coffee/wine and a tim tam. Many times, I have nearly fallen asleep, semi-reclined at the back of the salon as the warm water washes out my shampoo.
But I do find that hairdresser conversation can be a tad on the mind-numbing side. From the high pitched "So what are you up to tonight?!?" conversation from past young hip, female hairdressers, who struggle to continue conversations I start due to vastly different interests, through to Very Serious male hairdressers who take their business Very Seriously, and give you a 5 minute run-down at the end of the styling process about how they cut down that line to give me more body etc etc blah blah blah, I do find I wish I didn't have to nod and put on a smile all the time.
So a year or so ago I found a salon that was an improvement somewhat. I never managed to have the same hairdresser, but their music was plucked from my own collection, and the conversation wasn't too bad.
Then someone gave me Carmelo's number....
Carmelo operates out of his own house around the block from me. I expected a gay guy in his 40's or 50's, daggy decor, and I don't know what else - shirts tucked into tight ish jeans, fluffy white pooches... Apart from being gay, I got most of this wrong. Carmelo is youngish, of Italian extraction with stunning blue eyes and glasses. He has a dog, but medium sized and black. His house was done in 40's-50's retro style, but humbly so. Immaculate, but then you have to keep things tidy if people use your living room as waiting room.
Sure, I was handed the standard hairdresser array of style magazines, which left me annoyed at myself for forgetting a book.
But then I noticed his book collection. "Succulent Plant Dictionary", and a book about the stereotyping of men, then finally as my hair got washed, cut and styled, I found the time flew, as we had many interests in common. Or perhaps he's just a really good people person. Or it's something to do with the fact that people are coming into his home to have their hair cut, and you can't really pretent to be something you're not. Whatever: I had pleasant, interesting and rambling chats, spanning many of my common conversational topics. My friend says she often comes home with mascara streams down her cheeks from laughter... I may actually find myself going to get a hair cut a bit more often for a while!
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