Hairstyle that is. Thanks to Chad, I have a new hairstyle. Who is Chad? He was the man behind the scissors that took me from this...
... to this...
The pictures aren't the best. But this isn't really so much about how my hair looks as it is about how my hair got to that point.
When you think of a male hair stylist, how do you picture him? I'll admit, I think of a petite, effeminate man with a spring in his step.
Chad is the complete opposite. He stands well over 6 feet tall, has tattoos covering his arms, and sports a mohawk. I went to a walk in salon so it was the luck of the draw. And I drew Chad. I was actually a bit excited because I hoped he would have creative vision that the others lacked.
I sat down in Chad's chair and gave him an idea of what I wanted. I wasn't completely sure myself but I assured Chad that I'm not emotionally attached to my hair, so he need not worry about scaring me.
Chad apparently took that as a challenge.
He grabbed a section of hair and started chopping. You know how most stylists carefully cut your hair, one snip at a time, combing and making sure it's straight? Not Chad. He just started whacking, much the way an inexperienced and uncaring person would do to their enemy's hair.
I admit I suddenly got nervous. I regretted giving Chad free reign of my hair. I tried to hide my panic. I'm not sure if I did a great job.
"If you're sitting there thinking, 'I look like shit', don't worry. I'm just getting rid of the unnecessary length."
Whew. I think. I was still a little uncertain of Chad's less than conventional techniques. But I didn't have much choice but to go with it. After getting rid of all the unnecessary length, he asked how short I was willing to go. I gave him an idea and then asked what he had in mind.
"Nothing in particular. I'm not going to shock the shit out of you. I won't give you a pixie or anything."
Whew. Because I can't pull off a pixie cut.
The conversation with Chad wasn't your typical hair dresser conversation. Chad's a straight shooter. He won't sugar coat it. And he didn't mess around with small talk. I like that. One of the most stressful things about a trip to the salon is digging through my brain, attempting to scrape up something that will make a suitable conversation. These days, a trip to the salon is one of the few times I am away from my two very loud children. The last thing I want to do in the chair is hold up my end of a conversation, intellectual or otherwise. So thank you, Chad, for not expecting me to chat about the weather, my kids, or my career path.
Chad finally found his artistic inspiration and he pulled my hair together in the end. He even took particular care in ensuring that both sides were the same length, something that many hair stylists don't seem to care about. Sure, it felt as if he was pulling my hair from the roots when he thinned it. And he came close to gouging out my eye a few times with the scissors and his fingers. But in the end, I was happy with my hair cut.
On a side note, I'd love to know how much you tip your hairstylist. That is my least favorite part of going to the salon (well, after the small talk anyway). I always worry that I won't tip them enough. So I add an extra dollar or two on so they won't complain about me after I leave. But then the next time, I feel obligated to tip at least that same amount. And it's usually more than I really want to tip them. Thoughts?