I was in desperate need of a haircut today and when my hairdresser agreed to squeeze me in this afternoon I was elated. So elated that I decided to bring her a few pastries to show my appreciation. She’s squeezed me in before but I’d never thought to bring her pastries before. This good deed thing might actually be sinking in.
Not only did Maggie manage to transform my hair from fright wig to presentable, but it was a great day for the kind of beauty salon banter that you usually only see in movies.
There was the scream from the manicurist who just found out (from her eight-year-old) that “daddy has a new girlfriend.”
There was the violet-haired rinse-and-set who announced that eating watermelon affects women like Viagra.
And, of course, the stylist who’s dating a younger man but complains he’s the one who “always has a headache” (nudge, nudge, wink, wink).
Hair, schmair, this is the real reason women never missed their weekly “wash and set,” once upon a time. Worth a thousand pastries!