Probably not the most PC thing to be saying during this economic time, but I am firing my colorist. And while I'm at it I'm adding The Rabbit's hair cutter and the nail salon down the street. Before you launch into an entire Manhattan Mama is a snob routine, let me add that the nail salon charges $6 for a manicure — I am not talking about expensive beauty routines here.
But this is the deal — I am frankly tired of paying for bad work. And worst of all? I am seriously tired of having to either A) not say anything about the bad work or B) say something and sound like a, well, hideous Manhattan snob.
What has brought this on? Three truly annoying encounters in 5 days.
1. The woman who adds some color to my hair. I get lowlights added once in awhile (brunette hair)— and as my grays have started to come in, this means some coverage. For the past year she's been encouraging me to keep the grey. Encouraging is the wrong word. Badgering is the right word actually. Telling me I won't look natural. Without grey. Because in that elder statesman point of my 30s, I should be displaying that crown of silver proudly. So, then, I feel I should ask her: WHY AM I PAYING YOU???? Then after last week's encounter again which also included a push for the salon products I've decided I'm done with her.
2. The Rabbit's hair dresser. I am not the best mama for upkeeps and the last time she got her haircut we were all wearing shorts and complaining about the heat. Yes, it's been about 9 months. So given that time stretch, when we went in I had two points — keep it slightly long, but still cut off serious hanks. And I SHOWED HIM how much. WITH MY HANDS. What happened? 6 minutes later? She's done. And as I'm frowning, because really, what should I do -- He tells me I'm wrong. And I can't see that much on the ground because her hair is the same color as the floor. So I say nothing to him. But guess what? He's a goner too.
3. Walk over (now frustrated) to the nail salon. The Rabbit goes first (a winter vacation treat — she's been promised this for a month). Then it's my turn. All I ask? Please don't cut my cuticles. I'm actually chatting with a teacher at her school and monitoring The Rabbit's nail drying when I turn around and see nail polish all over my fingers. All over the barely pushed back cuticles. She's flattened them instead and then painted nail polish ON TOP OF THE CUTICLES. Now, I've had it and I say, "Oh. You're going to clean that part up right?" And she says: "YOU told me don't cut the cuticles. You want me to cut the cuticles now? Fine." And I say, "NO. I just want them pushed back. Like I do every time." "And she says, "No. It has to be cut." Now I'm just mad. JUST MAD. And I say, "Forget it. Just take off the nail polish. I'll do it at home."
And we leave.
So here's my question — am I wrong? Am I the one who is nuts? Or is it okay to feel that when you pay for a service, it be done as you've requested?
Ugh. I'm turning into a (s)mother.