I was having dinner with my parents and somehow we got to talking about how long all of our hair had gotten.
"Would you like to come to the mall with us?" Mom asked.
It seemed like a non sequitur. "Oh, when are you going?"
"After dinner."
"Ohhh," I said as I realized they were going to the mall to get hair cuts. "Let me think about it."
"The moll mulls the mall," Mom said.
"Hunh? Ah, like a gun moll," I said. "Moll and mall sound pretty much the same."
My hair had been growing unusually fast of late, it was hot out, and it was only going to be hotter the next few days. I didn't have much cash on me though, so I asked, "Would you treat me to a haircut?"
Mom said, "Sure."
Usually I go to a walk-in chain at a strip mall in another part of town, but the mall has two walk-in salons also. It's always a roll of the dice, so why not?
I'd gotten my haircut once at the place near the food court, but I'd had a bad experience so I didn't want to patronize them. I'd also been to the one across from Macy's before and it'd been fine. Nothing spectacular but acceptable.
There were two stylists working and the older woman said it'd be 20-25 minutes and to come back then.
"Do you have a list?" I asked.
"Yes," she pointed to the counter.
I wrote down all three of our names. Dad headed to the left and Mom and I headed to the right. We checked out the dollar store (not really a dollar anymore) and then walked to the end into Sears to look at their Lands' End stuff.
It'd been about 15 minutes, so I decided to head back. They were just cutting two men's hair, after all, and that always goes fast at these places.
Mom walked back with me, but they weren't done yet, so we sat down on the chairs at the entrance across from a man seated at the other side.
Dad walked up to us, his hair freshly cut and said, "You haven't even gotten in yet?"
"No. You better cross your name off the list."
He did and then continued to wander. If I could just tell people a couple of razor numbers, I wouldn't care where I got my hair cut either.
The middle-aged stylist finished her haircut and rung the man out. When she was done, I stood up but she said, "It'll just be a few minutes," so I sat back down.
She proceeded to check the younger stylist's progress and then both of them were cutting his hair at the same time.
I gave my mom a what-the-fuck? look and she said, "Well they're giving him the full treatment, aren't they?"
After a moment she said, "That wasn't nice, if I get her, I hope she gives my hair as much attention."
3 years ago on TTaT: Sketchbook, page 31
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