Haircuts, the bane of her existence

Haircuts! The bane of her teenaged years! Hours spent pouring over sleek images of singers and stars with beautifully coiffed locks. Magazines with detailed diagrams of how to make a perfect pin curl and just where to place them to achieve that special look. And then came brush rollers, again with detailed instructions on how to have the perfect flip or sleek page boy. Nights learning to sleep with gazillions of pricks on the head with imperfect results.

She well knew the long lasting results of a perm gone wrong. And just in time for school pictures. Hideous. Or hair that went limp on the most important day of her life, necessitating a frantic call to the salon for an emergency appointment. Hair. Who said it was a woman’s crowning glory?

Searching in vain for the stylist who understood Her hair. She was convinced that women hairdressers were out to sabotage their unwitting clients, after all, wasn’t it a woman who made her look like Dolly Parton? That is what he said, with wry amusement, when she got home. He was gone before her hair grew out.

But then, chance meeting with someone who really had done Dolly Parton’s hair and she straightened the unruly mess made by current rage of the day. Suddenly, going to the salon became a treat, eagerly anticipated. Leaving with a style that shouted perfection.

Her salon was small but elegant, like her. And Fridays were the most coveted  appointments, they were reserved for a select group. With the work week done and dusted, she greeted each person with her soft voice and gentle embrace,  offering a sparkling crystal glass of chilled wine and a comfortable seat. It was an oasis from the chaotic work week.  As an added benefit,  there were always some sexy guys with money,  and since she was a one woman salon, they enjoyed her complete attention.  Although in truth, most didn’t seem to need much of a trim. It was easy to slip into another world.

And one day he walked in….