Canis familiaris in sport utility vehicle at 40 mph.

Canis familiaris in sport utility vechicle at 45 mph.

posted by paula 1:26 PM

The salon is no place for children.

I do not frequent the city’s cheapest salon. In fact, I frequent one in a rather prominent part of an already uppity suburb, which has a history for pretension since the day it incorporated. But the salon’s not pretentious and in fact, quite the opposite with their trendy, service-dedicated staff, among whom I’ve managed to find not one, but six or seven very talented individuals at in the past three years.

So it shouldn’t surprise me, considering its location, that yesterday while sitting on the posh couches of the waiting area, flipping through my GQ magazine that I should be surrounded by teenagers. Little, teenage, no-breasted, fashionistas with their cell phones and overly made up faces and Victoria’s Secret v-strings sticking so far out of their hipster pants they’re practically kissing the sky, their mothers no doubt footing the bill for the scheduled ‘manis and pedis’, but still nowhere in sight. I scoffed at the thought, remembering my own hair history at their age: a slew of haircuts and Ogilvie home perms, given away by the wafting of classic home-perm scent for weeks after their inception and absent of color or highlight. But just as quickly as I found myself thinking that I would deprive my children of such luxuries until an appropriate age, my stylist appeared and we wooshed back to her shampoo chair.

It’s rare that you actually see children in my salon and I must admit, the ones that are present are well behaved and under the silver scissors themselves, mothers close by in hand-holding positions. But while there’s a time and a place for everything, I’m a firm believer that my particular salon is not the type of child-friendly environment some think it is. Such is the case with the mother two shampoo chairs down from me and her seven-year-old son Jason and his sister half his age. While Jason perched himself dutifully on to the chair between said mother and me, he surveyed the scene and uttered an amusing “This looks like it’s a good salon” in management-style fashion. Yes he was entertaining alright and a looker at that; blonde hair, blue eyes and the charm and wit of Clooney wannabe. That is, until thirty seconds later when he began to morph into Satan’s spawn, tossing his sister off her seat, keeping a few strands of her long hair in his grasp while doing so. Somehow, he managed to convince her that he was not the mini-me version of Hannibal Lector and then coaxed her back into the shampoo chair, where he proceeded to open the foot rests and then close them again. But alas, the little girl’s legs were too short and instead of doing his sister the favor he intended, he slammed the foot rest back into place on top of her tiny toes, causing her to wail in pain. Mom yelled, head still held captive by her shampooer. My stylist, knowing the dangers of reprimanding others’ children, simply leaned down and whispered a simple “I’m so sorry” in my ear.

Said Satan’s reign of terror wasn’t over though. He hopped down from his perch and began to wedge himself between the arm rests of the two chairs, which held an ample four inches for a seven-year-old such as himself to cram himself into, rattling my arm rest in the process and stepping on my purse multiple times. My purse, which held a pair of well chosen sunglasses, a palm pilot, a compact mirror, a digital camera and sundry cosmetics and keys. Mom was again chatting up a storm, oblivious to any wrongdoings her offspring had just committed. Taking matters into my own hands, I snatched the purse from his view, startling him just enough to briefly stop his tornadic behavior. Towel-headed, I leaned forward locking on his gaze and glared straight into his eyes, murmuring a short and quiet “Hey.” He retreated quietly to his mother’s side and my stylist and I retreated to her chair.

Which brings me to the sum: the salon is no place for children, folks. Just as it’s no place for overstressed, twenty-something women who aren’t afraid to scare other people’s children.

posted by paula 9:24 AM