So, Funny Story....

I went to get my hair done last week. For me, this means I went to get it cut. I’ve never dyed my hair so this lady got pretty excited about my “virgin hair”. More on her to come. I hadn’t had it cut since June when I (regrettably) chopped it off and I just wanted to get it trimmed again, and whatever.

I just dropped into the place without making an appointment and actually ended up getting the person that my friend Amanda recommended to me, so I was thrilled, I thought. Her name was Michele (pronounced Michael). She was interesting, she made me laugh to be sure. She asked ALL about me, my family, etc. She was pretty excited that somebody had recommended her to me. I’m always struck by the hair salon culture when I go in there. It’s so like how they depict it in the movies: feminine and gossipy. I get a kick out of it, usually.

So, eventually, it came up that I had worked in Alaska for a couple of summers. She asked what I did up there. I paused for a moment to think of how to, once again, explain what my job up there was. She took this pause as an opportunity to ask with a slight smile “were you a dancer?”.

Trying not to laugh and process too much on the spot whether or not I was supposed to be flattered or what, I said that no, and I worked in tourism. Then I realized that I’d better qualify that too. I explained that I had waited tables on the tour train my first summer and then went back as a manager...."Oh, ok "she said, and didn’t really ask much more about it, but did say of course that it seemed really cool. I smiled, still surprised.

The conversation moved on about my family and education and where I was from. She commented that I was very well dressed for a girl from Canby. (I was wearing a skirt?) And she then asked about my ethnicity.

I shrugged, once again trying to determine where she was going with the question and non-chalantly mentioned a small percentage of Native American heritage but mostly that I was “Caucasian”. I felt like I’d just checked a box on a form. Weird. She then said “Huh, I would have thought something else.” I think she saw my puzzled look and then continued, “like, African American or something.” And then she proceeded to say something about my lips or something while I actually thanked her this time, almost reeling. Indeed, it is a compliment. I just didn’t see it coming!

We finished the haircut and she curled my hair. Something I never would have done, but whatever I said. I left and tipped well because, dancer or not, I do live on tips and I understand how it goes. Walking out to my car I was still trying to put it all together. She thinks I look like an African American stripper?! I’m still not sure what to think. At least I marginally like the haircut....