Please visit my blog as I write my first book, the authorized biography of Leonard Pennario.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
I want to thank the Academy ...
... for sending me back to Supercuts once again.
I had this idea the other day to go to the, ahem, Salon Academy of Buffalo to get my hair cut. This was Saturday I am talking about. I was by there and noticed the place.
Keep in mind, I am way overdue for a haircut. My mom and I had been planning to go together to get our hair cut, this is how long it had been. So by now I am like this sheep dog.
I go into the Salon Academy on Saturday and it looked like a really cool place, bright and colorful with salon students running all over the place. This will be fun, I thought.
"How do I do this?" I asked at the desk. "Do I just walk in?"
The woman goes: "Honey, you need an appointment. Especially on Saturday."
So I make an appointment for Monday at 5:30 p.m. And I am looking forward to it. I kill myself to get there on time which, there is no easy way to get from downtown to Sheridan and Eggert, you know? But there I am, right in the nick of time.
And I wait.
And I wait.
There is a row of women there, all of them peering into their iPhones.
It depressed me. I wanted in a way to peer into my iPhone. I have all kinds of Leonard Pennario loaded in there to listen to. But I did not want to be one other person in this row of iPhone-peerers.
So I asked how long it was going to be. The desk girl wouldn't say.
"Ten minutes?" I said, nice-like.
"Yes, about that." She was noisily chewing gum, which was really annoying. Loud rock was pounding on the sound system. Meanwhile I heard applause from the back of the Academy. Apparently all the students had gathered and were applauding someone. It went on and on.
"I'll be right back," I told the woman.
And I went next door to Supercuts. They could take me in 15 minutes. I went back to the Salon to be polite, and cancel my appointment. And they said they could take me right then!
A young woman named Kelly leads me back to this booth. She was nice. I took this picture of her.
She puts that haircutting robe on me. We chat for a few minutes. Then it dawns on me: We are waiting for a teacher.
The teacher is working her way down the students. One of them needs something and so she disappears. She is gone forever. Kelly has run out of small talk and so have I and we are just sitting there under these flourescent lights.
Smiling, polite, I finally asked: "How long is this going to take, do you think, Kelly?"
Kelly said: "Usually there is more than one teacher. Tonight there is only one."
More time passes.
Finally I said: "Um, do you think I could make an appointment another time?"
I will say this: By that time they were only too glad to see me go. I was a potential problem, the one who kept singing the How Long, How Long Blues.
I was led to the front of the Salon, where I murmured something about making an appointment another time. Then I was out the door. I had wasted all this time, but still --