Hair Off


Today was the day I had scheduled for my mom and I to go and get haircuts. I started going to this woman in a salon up island. After going to her for a few months, and chatting like you do while getting a haircut, I picked up on some things. Things that led me to believe that she was a conspiracy theorist. Things like, she did not carry her phone on her all the time because she did not want to be tracked. There were other things as well. So I was a little leery about going to have my hair cut by her. To have my mom’s hair cut by her. But we really needed haircuts. I scheduled them for the first of the day on a Tuesday morning. Today was that Tuesday. 

My mom came to my house. I insisted we both wear masks in my car with the windows open. Of course with the general anxiety about going, I ended up leaving my phone at home. So that made it even more anxiety inducing. I was worried that my son would not realize that it was there, try to contact me, and panic. So there was that too. Good times.

When we got there, we were supposed to call in but, well, no phone. So I stuck my head in. I was told that my stylist was not in yet. We waited outside and there was a hit and miss temperature taking regimen that seemed kind of worthless (no one took my temperature, ever). Finally we saw her, walking across the parking lot, maskless. She saw us outside and told me to come in with her. I did. She walked in, the only person inside without a mask. She chatted with one of the hair washer girls. Dropped stuff in the back. Then back to the front to finally grab a mask. I was getting ready to tell her that she could not do my hair without one.

She started putting the foils in my hair. And while we were chatting she told me that she only wears a mask when she is at work. I asked her what happens when she goes into places. She told me that she pulls it down once she gets inside (and then she demonstrated). She told me these things after there were foils in my hair. I contemplated not having her cut my mom’s hair. Because, she is not taking appropriate precautions. She does not believe.

I felt like there were too many people in the salon. The girl who does the hair washing let me borrow her phone to try to ensure that my son knew that I had left my phone behind. I told her that she could just hold it if she didn’t want me to touch her phone. She laughed and said that it was fine. I would not have let someone whose virus tolerance I did not know touch my stuff. But maybe that is just me.

After the foils came out of my hair, and my mom’s hair had been cut (I sent her back outside), I went up to the front of the salon. That felt better than being in the back. We continued chatting. My stylist told me that she took precautions like she did for the flu. She told me that asymptomatic people did not spread the disease. She actually said this to me twice. I let it go the first time but the second, I tried to differentiate between asymptomatic and pre-symptomatic people. She did not respond to that. Likely because she did not want to argue with me like I didn’t want to argue with her. 

I did not make a follow up appointment. The only solace that I had was that our incidence rate is low in NY. I may not be able to go back there if that rate goes up. I told my mom that we would see how I feel in like a month. Maybe we would go back. But maybe not. I worry that I put my mom at risk after all of the precautions that we have taken. After so much time. What if that time inside with a person who thinks that the virus is like the flu, harmed her? So selfish. So I don’t know if I can go back. Even though the hair off my head has made me much lighter. And feeling more like myself. But myself these days is low virus risk. So I may need to move on. To try someone else who is more virus averse. More virus believing. And not so selfish.

About nematomorph

Living like the rich and famous, splitting time between Hawaii and New York.
This entry was posted in family, fear, New York, Parenting, patience, Relationships, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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