Jesse is at the salon getting a haircut. I have a to-do list that is a mile high and a meter wide but it’s going to have to wait because all I can do is think about what his hair is going to look like.
Last time he went to the salon, Teresa gave him a short, punky ‘do. I liked it. She cut it in a way that made several sections of Jesse’s hair go in different directions. It was controlled but a little erratic. My kinda cut.
I like symbolic haircuts. I like it when the style reflects the inner workings (and trappings) of the wearer’s mind. I want this for myself, but I still haven’t figured out how to ask for it.
Asking for things. Is there anything more essential to one’s survival, success and sanity?
Is there anything harder?
I know there are many people who have this skill, but I am not one of them.
I’m reminded of the first time I went to a nail salon at the Mall of America in Bloomington, Minnesota. I was 28 years old.
After soaking my my fingertips, trimming my cuticles, clipping and filing my nails, the manicurist rubbed hand lotion into my hands, wrists and halfway up my arms. It was the first time anyone had ever put lotion on my hands. It was shockingly relaxing. I had to force myself to keep my eyes open.
Be cool, Connie. Act like it doesn’t feel amazing.
She wiped the excess lotion off my hands and arms with a rough towel.
Hold your head up, you idiot. Act like you’re used to this.
With a final swipe, she gave my wrists a little shake and said three words that forever changed me.
“Pay me now.”
It was time for her to apply the nail polish and she wanted her money so I didn’t have to dig through my purse with a fresh manicure. Genius!
“Pay me now!”
I quickly paid and tipped her. She painted my nails and ordered me to stick them under a dryer. She was very bossy and I was very obedient.
Shit, I was terrified. I didn’t really know how long to sit there with my hands under the dryer so I kept looking back at her for direction. After several minutes, she looked at me with disgust and waved me away.
I walked back to my car, admiring the hell out of my nails. They looked so nice! But what I really admired was how the manicurist went about her business. She knew how to ask for what she wanted. I think of her every time I need to be direct but am still working on being as clear and effective as she was and hopefully still is.
Jesse (and his haircut) should be home soon so I’ll have the peace of mind to properly prep for Tuesdays@9 Chicago. I have a two-hander about a mom who kills her twins being read tonight. A real laugh-a-minute! Jesse and I, and possibly Jocelyn, are going to the city together tonight. Looking forward to all of it.
Thank you for reading my blog. Hope you’re having a good hair day. -Connie
2 thoughts on “Pay me now”
Love it. I ve only had my nails done once in my life last month for my daughters wedding. A terrifying experience, though actually very interesting. The woman who did them was very forthcoming about herself, her family life and political views ( very different from mine). I just listened and smiled. She had me in her hands!
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That’s a great story, Basia! And congratulations on your daughter’s wedding!
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