The 1960's is a fast & changing time. Viet Nam is going strong & protests are popping up all over the country. The term 'Hippie Generation' & 'Draft Dodgers' have become daily household words.
The 'Hippie Generation', while regarded by the adults as "lazy, drugged, disillusioned kids", has started a tidal wave of changes in our society. The most obvious is their style of dress. Long hair on the guys is the key issue. Suddenly, boys & men from 12 to 30 years old, stopped cutting their hair. Barber shop owners are on the news almost daily, complaining that their losing business, going out of business, & how disgraceful these men are to society. Unisex salons are starting to pop up in areas, especially Manhattan, causing even more controversy. Women cutting men's hair & men cutting women's hair, was in the same category as 'sex before marriage', which also was becoming popular, again, blamed on the 'hippy influence'.
Business stayed steady at the shop. Vidal became a frequent visitor, sometimes with paperwork to get advice from AnneMarie, sometime for quick private chats with her, & sometimes I think to get away from the stress of his project.
Today Vidal walked in, looking hot & tired. It's mid May & already we are getting Summer temperatures with humidity. I'm sitting at one of the hairdryer chairs, reading the newest copy of 'Hairdressers How-To' magazine.
"Hello Everyone." His voice was tired sounding & his face a bit drawn. He walked over to my station, & slid into my chair with a low sigh.
"How are you today, CeCe?" He always seemed to talk to me a little bit more than the other girls. That pleased me a lot!
"Good Vidal, how are you?"
" Oh, good I suppose. Are you busy today?"
"My next appointment is at 2 o'clock, it's only 12:30 now, why?"
"I was hoping you can give me a cut. I won't be flying back to London until July, & I hate when my hair looks like this. Can you do me now?"
As I started walking towards Vidal, I could see Sofia's eyes widen to the size of plates & in the mirror AnneMarie was staring at me. Vidal removed his suit jacket & tie, I asked Terry to please shampoo him, & then took a big swallow.
While I cut his hair, conversation flowed about London, his home town, wife & daughter (with photos) & before I knew it, I was removing the cape & brushing fly away hairs off his shirt. Vidal got out of the chair, ran his fingers through his hair saying it was perfect several times, putting on his tie & jacket. He offered me a tip, which I refused, thanking him. He tipped Terry, which she accepted, then turned to AnneMarie, telling her that he'll call her tomorrow, had to get back to his hotel to change for a business dinner at 7pm.
The rest of the day flew by. I hoped that Vidal was pleased with the haircut. I was aware that he watched every angle that I cut on, observed my blow drying techniques, & how comfortable I was with my "client".
Well, if he becomes popular in New York, I can say, "I gave Vidal his First American Haircut!"
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1 comment:
OH-MA-GAWD!
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