Today I went to the hairdresser, down here at the shopping mall, part of a chain, nothing special, really. People are treated with indifference, pushed through a customer process.
But…. surprise came, in the person of a tall beautiful black man. No name badge but let’s call him Frank. For sure, Frank was a hair artist. He didn’t have any attention for me as a person, but was highly interested in this hairdo that urgently needed fixing. Some professional relevant questions ( What would I like, in front behind and on the sides, how often I wash and how I dried it), he walked me over to washing basins and left me alone.
In the mean time Frank concentrated on aligning two wiped scissors and a comb in a sharp 90 degrees angle. When I was seated, he unlashed all his talents on my “coupe”. Methodically progressing, sometimes with glasses on, sometimes pushing them on top of his head, with varying swinging movements, he cut my hair. Try to think of Mr Bean cutting hair, without being ridiculous.
I have to say that the whole scene gave me confidence in the outcome (read: was a bit delighted) . I was in indifferent but capable hands. He then asked if I would like wax ( not gel of course). OK. If I would have any objections against coconut ( smell). I had not. He than took it as a mission to educate me.
“I did not cut it too short. (This could be easily be subject to discussion) Now, you heat the wax in the palm of your hands like this. Once it is heated up you can apply. You have to imagine a virtual square over your head. Put the wax on the roots of your hair and then move everything in the virtual square. It is very important to know that most of the volume is on the right side of your head, so make this movement…. And then wave it to the front, for a feminine look. Do you have any questions?”
A the till it turned out the hand heated wax was charged 2 € extra.
” You have all you need concerning wax?“
“Loyalty card maybe?”
May be not, yet.