As I was getting ready to walk out the door, she quickly leaned forward and said in a whisper, “Do give me your number so that I can call you. I am thinking about leaving.”
My heart sank. After I managed to regain my composure upon hearing those dreaded words, I slowly responded in a whisper, “Oh my goodness no! Please don’t go where I can’t get to you when I need to?”
“Oh don’t you worry. I’ll most probably still be in the area. Just not here anymore.” she said reassuringly.
That did make me feel slightly better.
I said with a little more pep in my whisper, “Well that’s fine then. Here’s my number. You can either call me and let me know or even send me a text message. I hope things work out for you where you’re planning to go.”
She responded with a beaming smile, “Oh I am sure that things will be better for me there. You’ll see.”
“I hope so too. Have a lovely weekend.” I said.
“Thank you. You too.” she said quickly and walked away.
With those parting words, I walked out the door of my favourite barber shop in this part of the world praying fervently that my favourite hairdresser in this part of the world remain where she is and not move on to another barber shop that would almost certainly be out of the way for me given my unforgiving schedule these days.
I felt a slight chill descend down my spine in that July evening heat & humidity in the great state of Louisiana as I walked towards my car parked outside.
For those of you who understand my plight, I am sure you’ll agree that it is ridiculously difficult to find that one heaven-sent hairdresser who fully understands how to style your hair without having to be told anything at all and once he or she is gone, it is a lot like pretending to thoroughly enjoy drinking decaffeinated coffee every time you have to say “Oh that’s a lovely job. Thank you.” when your hairstyle has been utterly butchered for a hefty fee.