I do not know the women. Would I remember them if I ran into them in the street? Perhaps, but I might be thinking, ‘now where do I know that face?’ I think I caught just their first names. But if I were called upon now to repeat them, I would have a difficulty doing that. And if it were in a court of law, I would respectfully decline. However, I know a lot of the details of their life and some of them are perhaps a tad too intimate.
It is amazing the things women — well not all women, but some – will tell their hairstylists. They say things to them that they would not say to their partners, sisters, mothers and children.
Who knows why this happens? Perhaps there is some sort of bonding that takes place when one woman massages another’s scalp, washes and styles her hair and sends her away looking pretty. Or is it the intimacy of the facial, manicure and pedicure?
Whatever it is, it certainly opens up the floodgates. And if you pay close attention – no, no, not to minding the woman’s business, but to the undercurrents in the salon – you will notice that there is a sort of domino effect. After one woman tells all, some others feel almost duty bound to contribute. This is particularly obvious when there is some similarity of experience; you can almost see the “click” in their consciousness as they recognize that there is a ‘sisterhood’. Their anxiety to contribute is palpable.
I have never been one to indulge in gossip, or to divulge other people’s secrets. And in keeping with that part of my character, I will not let on what I heard. Although… Can information passed on at loud decibels in a room of some 12 to 15 women, some of whom are complete strangers to the person venting, still be classified as secret?
I will say though, that I thought at the time that if she had just half of that level of communication with her partner she would not have been there complaining about the state of her relationship. No way, Jose! In fact, I feel quite certain that she might have been more like the next talker; the woman who spoke so glowingly of her partner’s prowess – every aspect of it – that he surely had an unexplained bout of hay fever that day. And then when he was checked out by at least a dozen pairs of eyes when he arrived to pick her up, he might have wondered whether any of the snot from his scores of sneezes was still on his face or had dripped on to his shirt; or if he had on odd-side socks.
Can’t help but wonder though, who do beauticians unburden to? They obviously go home with so many stories buzzing around in their heads; some sad, some naughty and some downright hilarious.
Perhaps the time has come for an addition to the training manuals for beauticians. There should be some amount of counselling training included or maybe an introduction to psychology. It would certainly allow them to cope much, much better with the auxiliary services that are thrust upon them every day.
Wonder what men tell their barbers? Do they talk sports all the time? Do they gossip? Reveal secrets? Or is communication reduced to a series of grunts? Oh to be a fly on the wall…
I think I will try and find a cozy barbershop for my next hair trim session. Oh, and I will not book an appointment. I will walk in and patiently wait my turn… Watch this space.
(thescene@stabroeknews.com)
