Hairy Tales, Part One

"I haven't seen you in a while!" my hairstylist said to me. This was the normal greeting. "Oh my, you've gotten fatter, haven't you?"

Now that was completely uncalled for.

"Uh- really? Haha I hadn't noticed," I laughed nervously. I was stunned for a while, as you can imagine, and reread the same Men's Health paragraph for the next ten minutes as my brain tried to recover from WTF Mode. As far as I knew I was there for a haircut, not to audition for America's Next Top Model. And even Tyra Banks wouldn't say that out loud. In public, for cameras to see and hear anyway.

This guy came highly recommended by some of my closest friends, too. "He's got such soft hands!" gushed one. "When he's rubbing my head it felt orgasmic," said another, a bit too enthusiastically. At this point I made sure we were talking about a hairstylist and not a high-class hooker. "Try it, you'll love him!" they said, almost in unison like in a canned radio advert.


Ohhh-kayyy.

Still, try him, I did and like how all hairstylists treat first-time clients, he was all smiles and flattery. And he was good at his job, without a doubt. Even The BF liked his work. Yes, we tag-teamed him! We tend to do that. Only hairstylists, mind.

It was only on the second visit that all the passive-aggressiveness started to flow. In addition to that gem up there.

"You have white hair!" Captain Obvious said.

"Oh yes I know. Haha."

"But it's so weird. It's all growing only on one side of your head. See!" he fetched a mirror and showed me. I have this patch of white hair that grows only on the right side, just above the ear. Like half a Reed Richards. It was kinda unusual but thanks for reinforcing my self-esteem! Dumbass.

Okay that white hair thing may have been part of his work, all the better to sell me a dye job. Yeah, nice try, with that fat remark? Unforgivable!

The moment he was busy with other clients I leaned over to The BF, who'd arrived separately from work. "Hey when Eddie greeted you just now did he uhm, say anything to you?"

"Er, no. Why?"

"He called me fat!" I hissed, totally pissed off now. Although it was far too late to do anything about it. Besides, it's not wise to piss off someone who's wielding a pair of very sharp scissors and who has your looks (locks?) literally in his hands. So I decided to brush it off.

"Hi! Welcome back!" he said to me a month later. "You've gotten fatter!" he said cheerily. At this point I just stared at him.

"Really," I said in a dead voice.

"Really!" he said, either too stupid or brainless to ignore the danger signs. "Never mind, fat means prosperous right?" he laughed. "I'll get someone to shampoo your hair."

And I wanted to get someone to tie him up and force-feed him like a foie gras goose until his liver bursts. I checked though, it's illegal-- even if he's the one who started it.

So that was he last time I ever patronised Eddie's sterling services. He moved salons a couple of times, and even tried setting up his own place but I couldn't care less. The BF and several friends continued going, although I don't know how they can put up with such abuse. The BF tells me Eddie sometimes asks why I never go back to him anymore.

"Darling, tell him if I want to pay to get insulted, it would probably be a very expensive therapist to get through this trauma," I said. A very hot and hunky therapist, but of course I didn't say that out loud.

I've since moved on to a very nice, friendly hairstylist near my place, who doesn't judge my bodily appearance every time I see him. It's taken me almost ten years to find one I'm really comfortable with, incredibly enough. Eddie was bad, but at least he didn't show me gay porn on his phone, which was what my first hairstylist did.

But that's another story!