She Said WHAT?

(the following is as seen through the eyes of one of my clients...or so I imagine)

I am relatively new to Austin, and have been thru three hairstyists, in search of one that fits.  My boyfriend purchased a coupon deal for highlites and cut with Amy Evers.  I googled her and read her reviews.  It was actually a comfort to see a mix of reviews as I am wary when there is never anything negative written.  I mean come on, no one makes everyone happy.

I pulled up the quaint old house and did not realize just how big and rambling it was.  After wandering around a bit, I found my way downstairs where Amy has her station and sat waiting on the long church pew.

A church pew?  In a salon?

Sitting with me were a few elderly ladies, some in hair rollers, some taking their own rollers out waiting for their stylist, to whip out his magic comb and shape their tresses into works of art.

I had no idea ladies still got roller sets, and is that what Amy is going to do to me?  Just as I was about to rethink this entire adventure, the back door opens and in walks a woman wearing heels, fishnet stockings, a black dress, and an apron with pink cupcakes all over it.  She is carrying a tray of cupcakes as well.

As soon as she is in the room she very loudly says in a thick Southern accent, "Good mornin y'all!  Why I have been up all night baking my heart out to bring you cupcakes!"

Various hoots, laughs and hellos she greets everyone and makes her way over to me and says (not in an accent), "Hi I'm Amy, I'm sorry I am a few minutes late, I was running from Round Rock, come on over and let's talk."

We get down to business and discuss what I am hoping will get done.  Amy seems relaxed and ready to take on my thick head of hair.

While foiling my hair we talk.  This is not an easy task as the downstairs now is overflowing with little old ladies, they all know each other and they all talk very loudly.  Amy tells me that this is what it is like every Saturday morning.  Same crowd.  None of them are her client's but they all know her and ask her questions about her life.

She talks with the ladies and even makes one or two slighty risque jokes which has them all in fits of laughter.

Every time a new person walks in through the back door everyone turns to yell a greeting.  I can't tell if I am on the set of Cheers or Steel Magnolias.

Occassionally Amy leans down to whisper the details or gossipy parts about some of the clients that are in the room.  She also tells me that in the afternoon there is a shift change and the clientele is very different.

Just as I am finishing up her next clients walk in.  Two young women that appear to be deeply in love and happy.  Amy pauses with me to greet them both with hugs and smiles, and gestures for them to take a seat on the pew.

I am starting to think the pew is actually a bit of a confessional as I have heard many secrets, and even found myself divulging a few of my own.

After I have finished I sit and wait for my boyfriend to come retrieve me.  Amy takes one of the other women to her chair and they begin to talk.  I can not tell if these women are her friends or just clients as she refers to everyone as "One of my friends."

Part of me feels like she has become my friend in the brief two hours I spent there.  And even though she reassures me that if I make an appointment in the afternoon it wont be as chaotic, I am not sure I want to.

I want to be part of the Saturday crowd and sit on the pew with the ladies talking about cruise ships.

One woman said rather loudly (since she took her hearing aids out), "So my doctor told me..."

Amy immediately said, "If I had a dollar for every time I have heard that said on a Saturday morning!"

She threatens to turn her ipod to Frank Sinatra to get the women in curlers really going but keeps it on Billy Joel for me.

When her new clients come in she asks them what they want to hear and one said, "Eighties".  With a few clicks, we were back in the Eighties and I was wondering just how many songs she held on her ancient ipod.

My boyfriend eventually arrives, and part of me is sad to go. I kind of wanted to stay and talk more with everyone.   Amy stops with her client/friend and gives me a genuine hug.

I can't tell if her clients revovle around her, or she revolves around them.  But I can say for sure if I ever return I will be sure to make my appointment on Saturday morning.  I have to find out how the cruise went for Ethel, or see if Amy's friend liked what she did to her hair.

Maybe I could just come with some coffee and sit on the pew waiting for my time at the confessional.

I have an odd feeling I would be welcome, even if nothing was being done to my hair.

I am not sure if I have found "my" stylist, but I know I have found a story I will be telling.  I have found a place where little old ladies still get roller sets and sit and mingle without judgement of anyone who walks through those doors.

Maybe someday they will all stop and yell greetings to me a I come in the door, to the odd place where they may not remember my name, but "Darlin" fits just as well, and they will all move over to make room for me on the pew.