As I mentioned yesterday, in anticipation of going into an office somewhat regularly, I decided to get a haircut. I wanted something between my usual Super Cuts and the mad expensive Bumble and Bumble of my previous life. I strolled down Hoboken peering in windows, trying to find a salon that struck my fancy.
I came across a gaggle of giggling guys lounging on a stoop, enjoying the warm air. I passed them by, too caught up in their laughter to fully realize they were in front of a salon. I back pedaled and paused in front of the door. The laughter quieted. “How do you guys feel about walk-ins?” I inquired.
A tall lanky blond answered, “Come on in.” I stepped over the jumble of lounging limbs and into the welcoming space. In typical Hoboken fashion, the floors were wood and the walls exposed brick. A row of giant mirrors echoed along one wall of the long, narrow room. Red velvet pillows crowded the window seat and soft Venezuelan house music quietly clumped through the speakers.
A beautifully tanned man followed me inside. He ruffled his short mohawk and smiled, motioning towards a chair near the back of the space. I dutifully followed behind him, mesmerized that I’d actually met a person willing to wear a neon green tank top outside of an 80’s dance party. The retina singeing shirt was paired with white denim shorts and flip flops. I was starting to have second thoughts about putting my hair in his hands.
Then he spoke. “Have a seat.” I blinked, dumbfounded, as he whipped out another dazzling smile.
His voice was amazing – smooth and thick like honey, but deeper and darker, more like molasses. His tone wrapped me in a warm cocoon of comfort and I immediately relaxed. “What are we doing today?” he rumbled as he fingered my limp, greasy strands.
“Whatever you tell me to, honestly. I’m half trying to grow it out, half relatively ok with the short flippy stuff, and wholly sure it needs some fixing.” He looked at me quizzically, blinking his dark wide eyes. “I just want it to look intentional, like an actual style. It’s coming in a little funny and this spot is still really thin. So I need tricks to cover that up.” His eyes widened slightly, eyebrows raised. Nervous, the words spilled out, “…from the chemo.”
He dropped his eyes briefly and fiddled with a comb. “Well, I kinda like what you’ve got going on. Let’s add some layers, shorten these bangs, and make the back a little wispier. Sound good?” I nodded, relieved.
He spun my chair to face him and leaned in closer. I noticed he had cut a notch in the neck of his tank top. As his torso moved towards me, a tiny square pendant swung forward from behind the neon fabric. An unblinking, technicolor Virgin Mary sparkled brightly, as she gently swayed on the silver chain. “Let’s get that mess washed,” he murmured.
As he lathered me up, he quietly asked, “So how are you?” I looked at him, weighing his words. Avoiding my eyes he continued, “Your health, I mean…are you…ok now?”
I quickly answered, “Oh yes! I’m fine. Totally fine. Feeling great. Just fine.” Why oh why did I mention the chemo thing?
“He turned the water off as he applied some new elixir to my scalp. “My sister’s hair came back in really thick and curly.” He smiled reassuringly.
“Well that must have been nice,” I responded thoughtlessly. Instantly I regretted my words and stammered, “The thick hair part – not the cancer part, obviously. I’m sorry.”
He patted my head as he turned the water back on. “I know what you meant. It’s ok.”
We sat in silence as he rinsed my head. He fingered a few wet strands and shook his head. “What do you use at home?” he asked with slight scorn in his voice.
“Um. I think it’s CVS brand dandruff shampoo,” I answered sheepishly. He gave me a stern look. “I know, I know,” I muttered. He slapped on yet another round of conditioner on my hair.
As he gently rinsed the pomegranate scented concoction from my hair, careful to direct the spray away from my ears with the back of his soft hand, I quietly asked, “And your sister? How is she? Is she still ok?”
He turned off the water and fumbled above my head for a towel. Avoiding my eyes he answered softly. “No, she passed.” He lifted my neck tenderly and wrapped the blood red towel around my head.
We locked eyes. “I’m Elly, by the way.” I slowly extended my hand.
He grasped my hand in his, a slight smile on his tanned face. “I’m Gabriel.”
You meet the most amazing people. If I didn’t hate cities and crowds so much, I’d up and move.
Love the new hair! You look so cute with short pixie hair. I would look like a bowling pin. Not to mention that mine is naturally super curly so make that a bowling pin with a fro. *shudders*
.-= SpotÂ´s last blog ..Sean and I come up with ways to make money… =-.
I used to have curly hair! Afros are awesome. I covet them.
The layering has made all the difference! Plus one of your ears is peeking through — that in and of itself completely takes you out of the Dreaded Realm of Bieber. You were right to trust the Archangel Gabriel.
.-= Debra She Who SeeksÂ´s last blog ..Laughter is Not Always the Best Medicine =-.
â€œWhat are we doing today?â€ he rumbled as he fingered my limp, greasy strands.
â€œWhatever you tell me to, honestly.”
DUDE. When did you start writing this PORN stuff? It is HAWT!!!!!!!!!
.-= marymacÂ´s last blog ..Guest Post: Brett and the City =-.
It’s all part of the new gig. I didn’t even get to the part about his throbbing member.
What a perfect combination of caring and bitchy for a hairstylist.
And I like the new do.
..and neon. Don’t forget the neon.
awwww, i’m welling up here. love that his name is gabriel. he sounds like my kind of an angel. think he would be my BFF?
the new do looks swell!
.-= patty punkerÂ´s last blog ..flogging patty =-.
Glad your hair is coming back….cancer runs through my family tree like…well like a cancer.
I do agree with marymac that this started to sound like a “romance” novel.
Like the new cut…it highlights your baby cheeks.
.-= mepsipaxÂ´s last blog ..Random Rant =-.
I prefer chipmunk cheeks or cookie dough cheeks. Regardless, I can hold more in those bad boys than Kate Gosselin can in her uterus.
What an amazing moment….
and btw I LOVE your haircut! 🙂
.-= BarbÂ´s last blog ..I’d like to thank the little people who made this possible… =-.
That’ll do, Elly, that’ll do. Nicely written. 🙂
.-= AndreaÂ´s last blog .."(Don’t Fear) The Reaper" =-.
I need three blind mice to follow me around singing barber-shop-quartet-style for SURE.
A good hairstylist IS like having a personal angel. And your hair looks great- feminine, and it makes you pretty eyes pop!
.-= carrie meadowsÂ´s last blog ..What Mommyâ€™s Drinking =-.
Thanks, Carrie. Check is in the mail.
you are such a great writer. I love this post. Beautiful. The haircut and the post.
.-= ChickenÂ´s last blog ..L is for Letter and M is for Mom UPDATED =-.
For shits I thought you were writing some kind of porn stuff and I was reading your blog with one eye open, cause I don’t want to get caught in some “boy yogurt” (cite Dick here) without the proper protection for my eye.
For serious, I felt your post in my heart and I got all misty. Sometimes, it is amazing we meet the most incredible people in life by chance and you are of course, incredible.
Rockin’ that hair.
Don’t go making me all squishy. Big sloppy (but no tongue) smooches to you.
Beautiful meeting…it is amazing how we can save someone or be saved everyday! Hair cut looks great. Good luck on re-entering the work force…and to a soon needed vacation!
.-= JeaneÂ´s last blog ..One Shoe, Two Shoe, Red Shoe, Blue Shoeâ€¦ =-.
I’m so over this working thing already. I need an umbrella drink.
Very cute hair–it’s spunky (but not in a baby batter way).
Also, crying, crying, crying over here. Just so’s you know. Wish I could hug both you and Gabriel.
.-= FallingÂ´s last blog ..Possibly the First Time Brangelina Has Been Mentioned in a Treatise on Grief and Loss =-.
Funny you should say that. I was out of product and had to use…
Aw, what the FUCK!! You made me fucking CRY, fuckhead. Fuck this shit. I’m out. Pssh. Evs.
.-= Steam Me Up, KidÂ´s last blog ..Been spendin’ most my life, ridin’ on a gangsta’s motorized stair seat =-.
This is a very nice post. However it has me wanting a technicolor Mary pendant really badly.
.-= Bridget CallahanÂ´s last blog ..Why Hit Girl is Not As Shocking As You are Making Her Out to Be =-.
You know how I hate to feel actual emotions but I let them out of their compartment for the duration of this post.
I was going to use the term fuckity fuck to accurately describe myself blotting the little teary eyes but Steam Me Up, Kid got there first. Oh well.
The haircut is very stylish and frames your face quite nicely.
WTF? This comment sounds like it was channeled through my aunt Marion’s uptight ass. I’ll try to do better next time.
.-= KellyÂ´s last blog ..Tranny Nanny =-.
You look super-chic! I love the new haircut!
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