I usually don’t smile in hair salons. Because I hate them.
Or maybe I should say: I hate the hair-salon “process.” I’ve been to stylists who arrive dumb late for appointments. A-yo, respect my time, man. I’ve been to stylists who nickel-and-dime. The deep-conditioner application cost 15 dollars, but if you want me to wash it out, it’s gonna be 30. I’ve been to stylists who stack clients. How we ALL got an 11:00 appointment?… And as such, I have been relaxing, styling and sometimes trimming (I may need to stop trimming) my own hair since I was 15. On the rare occasions when I do need to go to a salon, I arrive with my hair relaxed, conditioned and wrapped and just ask the stylist to trim and style it. They don’t like it but it really is in everyone’s best interest, as I do not possess patience or restraint necessary to sit in a salon all day long without blacking out on somebody. “Ain’t nobody got time fo’ that.”
I took new headshots today. I felt like I needed to get my hair done professionally, so I made an appointment with a stylist I recently met. I walked thru the door with a side-eye, but when I got in I saw that I was her only client. We breezed right thru the process. In and out in two hours (the roller set added a lil extra time, but I asked for that) and she did a fantastic job!
If it was always like this, maybe I would go more often.
But it isn’t. So I won’t.