Wednesday, May 03, 2017
Today I am grateful for Google. My mom had her hair done at the salon where she lives and it’s awful. It must be, because that’s all her or my sister are talking about these days. I am a retired hairdresser so I’m very frustrated that I can’t be there to do this simple, yet vital thing for her.
So I went on Google. Boy, some of those Wisconsinites are tough when it comes to critiquing a salon. One said, “I ripped the cape of before the first snip, and ran out the door.” Yikes. In 17 years behind a chair I never had anyone do that!
I found a place, called them, found out they were less than a mile away from where she lives and the guy could take her on Friday. Yippee. So I called mom to tell her I made it happen. Here’s how it went.
Me: Hey mom. I think I found a hair salon for you and it’s very close by.
Mom: It isn’t the one here is it? Because those babes are not touching my hair again!
Me: Nope, it’s only a mile away and the guy said he could take you Friday.
Me: Yup. He sounded like he knew what he was doing when I spoke with him.
Mom: Is he cute?
Me: He’s a hairdresser. We’re all cute.
Mom: Okay, how much?
Me: Twenty bucks for a haircut and set.
Mom: I just had it cut.
Me: I know, but they left it too long. You need to get it cut shorter now, not when it grows out and whatever perm you have is gone.
Mom: Okay, I guess.
Me: I told him you lived at. . .what’s the name of the place where you’re living?
Mom: Um. . .let me think. . .um. . .Alcatraz.
Me: Mom you don’t live in Alcatraz!
Mom: Well it feels like it sometimes. (we are both hysterical)
Me: No, what is it? Why can’t I remember?
Mom: Asshat, no. . .(more laughing)
So my mom from Asshat-Alcatraz. . .aka/Aster Assisted Living. . . is getting her hair done on Friday at 12:30. Google and I made it happen. The rest is up to my sister.