Hair: Meta-Narrative

The buzz of light music appeared familiar to him as he approached the rounded check-in desk housing a quaint woman. “I have an appointment,” he said as he began to take off his jacket and hang it in the adjacent closet. Jenna arrived a few seconds later and directed him to the “washing station” where he laid back and tried to relax. With Jenna though, it was impossible. The awkwardness between them was no new occurrence, and one that he strongly disliked. As he tried to preoccupy his mind, Jenna began her usual questioning: “So how’s school? Have any plans coming up? Been up to anything recently?”

“That’s all she ever asks me before going off into her rant of complaints for the remaining thirty minutes,” his friend replied as they passed by the hair salon on their way to dinner. She, having her hair cut by Jenna multiple times, related to him and his situation perfectly.

“I just want this song to end, isn’t it just the worst? I can’t stand those repetitive voices,” Jenna exclaimed. “Me neither,” he responded. He was surprised to hear the word “repetitive” come from Jenna, as her heavily applied make-up and eye shadow gave her a somewhat not intelligent image that could be confirmed after exchanging only a few words with her. “Gosh, isn’t it hot in here?” Jenna asked him abruptly, yet he knew there was only one acceptable answer. “Yeah,” he responded shyly, trying to avoid eye contact. “My friends always ask me why I go to work wearing tank tops and sandals, even during the winter. Well this is why, it’s always scorching in here, don’t you think?” “Yeah, I’m a little warm.” This was luckily the correct response, as it bought him around five minutes of total silence. This silence was needed to give him the opportunity to relax and clear his mind of the recent stresses occupying it.

When he was with his friend his stress magically vanished. They had been friends for as long as he could remember and noticed how whenever he was with her, he was not in the present. He was in a time of a combination of the past memories experienced with her as well as the future memories they expected to experience together. This allowed him to escape from reality and truly enjoy life, an escape that was well due for them both. As they walked to eat, they reflected on experiences such as Jenna, the hairdresser she used to have that he still currently has. Unlucky for him, his mother is friends with the owner of the hair salon Jenna works at. His self consciousness did not permit him to get his hair cut from a different employee, for fear that Jenna might see him and characterize him as a betrayer.

“You’re haircut looks great,” his mom said as he approached her rapidly, attempting to escape Jenna. “Thanks mom, but can we go? I have a lot of homework tonight and a test tomorrow that I am no where near prepared for.” “Sure. Thanks again Jenna, see you in a month or two!” He let out a suppressed sigh, expressing his dread for this time in the near future.