B is for Beauty Salon:

The receptionist greets me with a warm, welcoming smile as she informs me Gina, my hair stylist, will be ready for me shortly. I sit back in the black, leather chair, watching attentively at the hair stylist being hard at work. Each one of them, focussing on nothing else but their client’s wishes and the precision of each cut. Running down their fragile fingers, delicately down the client’s hair, they continue to make small talk.

I look over at the nail artist, zoning themselves out of all the noise from the blowdryers and laughter, ensuring that each nail looks just as beautiful as the one before. After each coat of nail polish, they sweetly ask the client with a soothing voice if they are happy with what they have so far. Placing each gem onto the nail so diligently, and then sit back to admire their work.

As my hairstylist greets me she walks me over to the sink to wash my hair. She cautiously asks me if the water is too hot or too cold then she proceeds with applying shampoo. The lukewarm water begins to trickle down my skull, Gina’s fingers delicately begins to massage the shampoo into my skull creating a relaxed environment for me. She manages not to touch my ears too much.

My view from the sink was the pedicure station of the salon. I see a mother and daughter enjoy some bonding time as they get their feet massaged and toe nails painted. The pedicurist buffs the heels of their feet with pressure but not too much, just enough to reduce the amount of dead skin. She gives the joy of allowing one of the body’s most undesired boy part to have  a polished, clean, and beautiful look.

My hair hairstylist begins to comb down my Rapunzel-like hair, using her hand to gently direct my head to the  position for accurate cutting. She begins to ask me with her cheery voice about how my family is doing, what university did I decide to apply to, how am I liking senior year so far etc. There were moments where she would stop speaking for 2-5 minutes because she was concentrated on each cut.

As she finishes curling the last strand of hair, she runs her fingers through them in a strategically to achieve the perfect waves. She bounces the waves with her hands and scrunches them up with hairspray for extra hold. She takes a step back, and puts her warming smile on and asks me  if I like what I see.

I look at the wavy flow of my hair and I was surprised to the boost of self-esteem a hair salon could provide.