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2 • the salon where I get my hair cut

Tuesday, 18 January 2011

Number 2 was originally going to be Elizabeth Park, but then autumn turned into winter & we stopped walking there every day. So instead #2 will be the salon where I get my hair cut. As Christmas was approaching, I hadn’t had my hair cut since leaving Buffalo, and I thought I should try to make myself presentable in case anyone took pictures over the holiday so I made an appointment to get a cut the week before.

It’s not as snazzy as the salon I went to in Buffalo (which apparently doesn’t have a Web site, or I would link it here). It’s…pretty basic, really. Just a spot in a small plaza about five minutes’ walk from here. The average age of the clientele appears to be about 106. While I was waiting for my turn, a husband waiting for his wife to finish getting her hair done told me all about his experiences in “The War” and his job as a machinist afterward and his college-age grandkids.

The place is a hole in the wall, really. The floor is old linoleum; the chairs workstations are old and basic. There are none of the edgy decorative touches of a salon typically aimed at my demographic. Everyone there—staff and clientele alike—seem to be related to each other. My new stylist—Margarita—is from Russia, and she loves the colour of my hair from my last home henna job. She also uses way too much hairspray when she’s done cutting and drying my hair. The entire time I’m there, I feel like I’ve stepped into a time machine & found myself in a small-town beauty salon sometime in the 1980s.

I love it. And Margarita did a nice job with my hair (except the bit about the hairspray), so I’ll be going back. Now, don’t get me wrong—when I move back to Buffalo the first thing I’m going to do is call Meredith and make an appointment. But living as I am in a higher-end suburb where I feel a little like a fish out of water a lot of the time, I’m happy to have found this little easygoing piece of “normal.”

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