HAIRDRESSER'S MIGRAINE

It was a mother-daughter day. Susan and I had made two appointments to get our hair done by my hairdresser, whom Susan had not met yet.  He said it would probably take three hours.  We walked in, and the salon owner said Jonathan wasn’t back from lunch.  I ran a quick errand and, when I returned, Susan and Jonathan were only in the beginning stages of discussing which style and colors would look good.  I say “discussing” loosely, because Jonathan could hardly talk.  He had a migraine and was moving very slowly – even for Jonathan.  He was squinting one eye as he talked, and he couldn’t remember what he had said from one sentence to the next.  He said he had only taken Tylenol, but I wondered. 

Any normal person would have rescheduled at this point.  But then, Hugh Mouse has never been normal.  I know Jonathan’s work, and I had told Susan that he could “cut hair in his sleep.”  Well, he sort of was asleep.  I looked at Susan’s worried eyes.  We were both wondering if he could cut and color hair with a jackhammer inside his head distracting him.

Watching him comb her hair was like watching a clock tick.  He combed out each batch of hair several times, parting it very carefully, re-combing and re-parting until I thought I was going to scream.  But I know that Jonathan is a perfectionist and, even on a good day, he takes his time. 

Four and one half hours later, he was finished.  I said I would re-schedule my appointment.  I sure hope his headache is gone when I go back.

BTW – Susan’s hair looks better than I’ve ever seen it!