22 April 2009
Bon Lose It Academy Of Comedians
I went to get a haircut on Tuesday, at the Bon Losee Academy of Hair Stylists, a member of the Marinello Schools of Beauty. I desired beauty, so I figured it was the place to go. The Bon Losee Academy has been my hair salon of choice this year; sometimes it's Paul Mitchell, sometimes Fantastic Sam's, and sometimes Image Creatures (It might actually be Image Creaters, I can never remember). Anyway, it's always an adventure over there, and I always get my monies worth in entertainment, relaxation, and usually a haircut. Tuesday's safari went above and beyond the call of duty. When my stylist (Olga) first sat me down, her supervisor came over and handed her a written test she had taken the week previous. Olga picked it up, angrily threw it down, and proclaimed, "I Failed!" Great way to begin a haircut. I told her I wanted my hair cut short, with a #2 on the sides and a square back. You know, the usual. As she started she had a pretty haphazard approach, as if she were cutting my hair based on a pseudo-random number generator. I explained to her that I only get three haircuts a year- something that was so shocking to her I thought she was going to go into cardiac arrest and cut my ear clean off, Van Gogh style (or was it Picasso?). She just couldn't get it through her head why anyone would do that. She was so amazed that she went to go tell her supervisor that I only get three haircuts a year, and my hair cutting schedule was by far her conversation of choice. She kept going back to it. During one attempt to change the conversation, I asked her if she had very many regulars. She started telling me about one person who was allergic to shampoo and had really smelly hair, but who kept coming in and requesting Olga to cut her hair. As she was telling me this I could sense her anger and I could feel her cutting my hair a little harder and a little more carelessly, so I decided to go back to my sheering schedule. Far and above, the greatest moment of the experience came when she was done with my hair. She stopped, stepped back to get a second look, and then said to me, full of purpose, "You look funny." Just like that. I wanted to explain to her that #1- Most people don't tell someone they just met that they look funny. #2- She was the one that just barely gave me my haircut, so I didn't feel personally responsible for my appearance, at least not in her presence. She was right though, I did look funny. She went to get her supervisor, who promptly went to work on my head, blending and correcting. It was all very exciting. At one time, I had my eyes closed when the supervisor brushed hair off my nose and I flinched. Olga said, "C'mon, don't do that! He's meditating!" Yes, meditating at the Salon. Oh Olga. The humor just kept on coming. As we were walking to get my hairwashed with Tea Tree shampoo (my favorite part), we passed a man with long hair and a few exiguous teeth. Olga turned to me and said, "He looks scary!" I gave her a courteous laugh, but she recognized it and said, "What? Didn't he look freaky!" Funny customer relations if you ask me. All in all, it was a great haircut that I got eventually (it's pretty dang short. It just kept going shorter and shorter and shorter). The only time I got actually scared for my life was when I told the supervisor I wanted my sideburns raised 1 centimeter. She put the razor an inch up, and I jerked away. I reminded her how much a CENTIMETER was, and my most valuable physical posessions were preserved. The last funny thing Olga did was to tell me, "This is a hard haircut because you are going from really long to really short." I wanted to ask her what other kinds of haircuts she gives that are easier (really short to really long, perhaps?) but she seemed to be having a long enough day already. Oh, the Bon Lose it Academy of Comedians, you did it again!