It surprised me, the ease with which the beautician dismissed me and listened to Master.
She initially asked me what I wanted done with my hair as I was taking my seat in her chair. I opened my mouth to deliver the rehearsed directive he’d given me, but before I could finish, Master spoke from where he’d been standing behind us, she turned to him – and she never spoke to me again.
They made small talk while she cut, with her occasionally asking him questions about my hair cut.
I fully expected at some point that she’d ask me if I was okay with it. Or at the very least if I agreed with what he was saying. But nothing.
She was a younger girl, too. I could almost understand an older woman allowing the husband’s opinion to weigh in on his wife’s haircut. But I was pretty well flabbergasted that she didn’t even ask me what I wanted, she just did what he said.
I thought we lived in a feminist society? lol
I could tell from how it felt that she was cutting it short, far FAR shorter than what he’d told me to ask for, and I started to get nervous.
No. That’s not accurate. I started to get terrified. I know how beauticians sometimes take liberties. An inch becomes three, “shoulder length” ends up at your chin. I know because I’ve been there. Me having long hair has been a must for the last 12 years, he barely lets me get a trim, so feeling those scissors snipping so HIGH up my back made me sweat. Was he watching? Was he paying attention? Should I say something? Should I scream “RED!”??
And then I heard him say “No, take off a little more.”
So I let go and let Master.
When I went in, I had hair swishing the small of my back. Now, it’s barely past my shoulders- and some of the layers don’t even touch my neck. It feels AMAZING. I don’t even care what it looks like. My hair was thick and heavy and hot, this feels light and flouncy and lovely.
At the end, as I getting out of the chair she said, almost as an after thought, like she’d forgotten I was there: “Oh! Do you want to see the back of it?” and picked up the little hand mirror to hand me.
I laughed. Nah… what for? Master’s got this.