Haircut!

I recently got a private student. I actually came recommended to her from the TEFL school I went to. I guess it sometimes pays to be the biggest wiseass in the room…

Yesterday I met up with her for our first lesson. We were supposed to meet in Old Town Square, by the big statue. When I arrived, I got a call from her. “I’m in my car.” I look around and see her waving her arm from the window of a brand-new BMW. I get in. She says that she couldn’t find a jacket, so she had to take the car. She then drives 200 yards around the corner to where we’re having our lesson – the hair salon she owns. She finds a parking spot about 200 yards from the salon.

She tells me that she just went running with a friend, so she needs to have her hair washed. She sits down at the washing sink and calls one of her employees over to wash her hair. Then, she tells me to sit down next to her and start the lesson. "Um… While your head is tilted back, getting your hair washed?" I don’t say this, but rather imply it. She doesn’t care. On with the lesson!

After her hair is washed, we move into a quieter, private, facial(?) room. We sit across a large dentist-office style chair covered in towels (you know, for facials). As soon as we begin the lesson again, another employee enters with a hairdryer. The next half hour of lesson is conducted while screaming over the noise of the hairdryer. Great stuff… I think she learned a lot…

When the lesson was finished, I asked her how much a haircut costs. “550 kc” she says. “For a men’s haircut?” I ask. “That’s a lot.” She tells me that, if I don’t mind being a model for a stylist in training, she’ll give me a haircut for free. Free haircut? Why not? I get penciled in for later in the day.

So, I come back later in the afternoon. While I’m waiting, my student comes up to me and says “behind you, in the chair by the window, is the former President’s wife. Don’t look now.”

“Wow… She must have some high profile clientele,” I think. “This is going to be a great haircut.” Yeah… Don’t get ahead of yourself, Seth…

The girl who cut my hair seemed to have no idea of what she was doing. She refused to just grab a chunk and cut it (despite its length). She even dropped the scissors at one point. When she stopped for me to look at it, it was a shapeless mess. Spikes of hair were going every which way. My ears were still covered. I looked ridiculous. I don’t think she’d ever cut a man’s hair before…

After another unsuccessful attempt at cutting, the owner (my student) jumped in to salvage the job. The end result turned out to be ok. But, man, was I nervous for a while there…