After living in Pullman for three years without finding a barber or hairstylist that I really liked, I have started a search here in Bremerton. Luckily, I don't need to get my hair cut as frequently as I did while I was in the navy, so I have a little more time to find someone new.
The first place I went to, the stylists were friendly and chatty, but the lady that cut my hair made me kind of nervous. She was rather mature and her hands were a little shaky. She also had this habit of finishing some of her sentences with a nervous little titter. It is somewhat unnerving to have someone let out a little laugh at inappropriate times.
One of our verbal exchanges went something like this:
Her: "Whoops. hehe"
Me: "What's the matter?"
Her: "Oh, nothing. hehe"
The haircut wasn't bad, but I decided not to go back.
Last month, I tried another place. There was a middle-aged woman and a younger woman working there when I walked in. The middle-aged woman stepped up to the counter and asked:
"Can I help you?"
The words seemed normal enough, but the glare she was giving me and the tone of her voice seemed to say:
"What the f&$@ do you want?"
I told her that I wanted a haircut. She kind of growled at me and told me it would be about 20 minutes. I said that would be fine and wrote my name on a sign-up list and took a seat. Next, she turned to the younger woman and angrily told her that if anyone else came in, it would be at least an hour before she would take another customer because she hadn't eaten lunch yet. The younger woman sweetly replied that she would just tell anyone else that came in to get lost. The young woman also earned a glare for that remark.
In the meantime, the middle-aged woman called a father who was bringing his son in for a haircut back to her station. I only heard one side of the conversation, but it didn't sound too promising. I heard her say quite loudly:
"I don't think you even know what you're asking for. He's gonna look like Little Lord Fauntleroy if I cut it like that!!"
Next, I heard her say:
"A bob?!?! Do you even know what a bob is?!?! He's gonna look like a little girl!!! Just let me do this!!"
Obviously, I was having some reservations at this point, but having already committed some of my time, I figured I would go ahead and stick it out and get my haircut as long as she didn't treat me so harshly when it was my turn.
After the young boy and his father left (with a pretty good haircut, I should add), she called me to the back. I gave her my standard "Finger-length on top, a number 1 on the sides and back, and blend it together" and she commenced cutting my hair. She chatted with me and seemed quite friendly the whole time. She was like the Mr. Hyde of Hyde/Jekyll. It actually turned out to be a pretty good cut.
I don't know. Maybe she just doesn't like kids.
The first place I went to, the stylists were friendly and chatty, but the lady that cut my hair made me kind of nervous. She was rather mature and her hands were a little shaky. She also had this habit of finishing some of her sentences with a nervous little titter. It is somewhat unnerving to have someone let out a little laugh at inappropriate times.
One of our verbal exchanges went something like this:
Her: "Whoops. hehe"
Me: "What's the matter?"
Her: "Oh, nothing. hehe"
The haircut wasn't bad, but I decided not to go back.
Last month, I tried another place. There was a middle-aged woman and a younger woman working there when I walked in. The middle-aged woman stepped up to the counter and asked:
"Can I help you?"
The words seemed normal enough, but the glare she was giving me and the tone of her voice seemed to say:
"What the f&$@ do you want?"
I told her that I wanted a haircut. She kind of growled at me and told me it would be about 20 minutes. I said that would be fine and wrote my name on a sign-up list and took a seat. Next, she turned to the younger woman and angrily told her that if anyone else came in, it would be at least an hour before she would take another customer because she hadn't eaten lunch yet. The younger woman sweetly replied that she would just tell anyone else that came in to get lost. The young woman also earned a glare for that remark.
In the meantime, the middle-aged woman called a father who was bringing his son in for a haircut back to her station. I only heard one side of the conversation, but it didn't sound too promising. I heard her say quite loudly:
"I don't think you even know what you're asking for. He's gonna look like Little Lord Fauntleroy if I cut it like that!!"
Next, I heard her say:
"A bob?!?! Do you even know what a bob is?!?! He's gonna look like a little girl!!! Just let me do this!!"
Obviously, I was having some reservations at this point, but having already committed some of my time, I figured I would go ahead and stick it out and get my haircut as long as she didn't treat me so harshly when it was my turn.
After the young boy and his father left (with a pretty good haircut, I should add), she called me to the back. I gave her my standard "Finger-length on top, a number 1 on the sides and back, and blend it together" and she commenced cutting my hair. She chatted with me and seemed quite friendly the whole time. She was like the Mr. Hyde of Hyde/Jekyll. It actually turned out to be a pretty good cut.
I don't know. Maybe she just doesn't like kids.
2 comments:
I'm going to the local great clips since the women there give great shampoos.
I will go to a male barber to trim my beard and mustache since the women DON'T KNOW what they are doing.
I cut my own hair. I think it looks pretty good but the bottom line is, I don't give a shit. That's got to be a big component if you cut yor own hair.
I used to go down to the barrio and let Mexicans cut my hair. They were good and cut it any way I wanted.
You're retired military. Just get it cut on base.
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