A Trip to the Salon
Some of my friends haven't had a haircut since COVID-19 reared its ugly head. I get it, I do. I go six weeks between leaving my house, and I only leave for trips to the doctor or the salon.
Why bother? It's not like my hair is growing. It used to grow so fast it would be bushy and gross in five weeks. Now, I've pushed my appointments back to six weeks because the hair's just starting to touch the tops of my ears by then.
To those of you saying, "No really, there's a pandemic," you're not wrong.
First, I live in Iowa, where salons have been open since May. We never really flattened the curve here because we have no regulations. The one time the governor did implement restrictions, we avoided the Thanksgiving spike (and then let up before Christmas, so get ready, here comes the next wave).
Second, my salon needs me. Yep. That's what I keep telling myself. They've lost business from the folks who are too scared. I don't even need to pay for my undercut trims, but I tip my hairdresser each time. I've even started buying product there to support them.
Third, they're as safe as they can be. Everyone wears masks. They take my temperature at the door. They spread out their appointments and chairs for social distancing. When she shaves behind my ears, she holds my mask in place. (Yes, we both wash our hands/use hand sanitizer afterward.) I'm in and out in less than ten minutes when she shaves the back, and less than an hour when she straightens/cuts the top.
None of this makes the salon "safe," I know. Salon owners and hairdressers are people, too. Yes, I could have let my hair grow out, or used my own clippers. This is my one little attempt at normalcy (for them and for me) in this pandemic.
What's your attempt at normalcy?