A Hairstylist’s Chronicle of Salon Life: He Showed me his Junk

Behind the Chair: A Hairstylist’s Chronicle of Salon Life

Behind the Chair: A Hairstylist’s Chronicle of Salon Life is a series of short fictional stories based upon years of working as a hairstylist. These are excerpts from a soon-to-be book comprised of comical, erotic, and serious stories that have been heard and then embellished to depict the often humorous side of salon life.

He Showed me his Junk

I love working from home, but always feel as if my privacy has been invaded once a guest enters my corridor. It is a reaction I have learned to mask through a warm, inviting, yet fake smile and a cheery hello as I greet my clients. You learn after a while who is emphatically late, who arrives early and who is so punctual that if they pull up five minutes before appointment time, they will sit in their vehicle until the precise scheduled moment.

Viv falls into the latter category and is the sister of a friend/guest. She also happens to be the older, heavier, less intelligent and more unattractive version of her sibling, although she exudes confidence and unabashed “hotness”. But, I love, love, love to do her hair as each visit puts me in stitches, her stories tend to shock and she literally lets me be as creative as my nimble hands allow.

I waited at my laptop that was set upon my dining room table in the cool air when I watched Viv pull up from my large bay window. As is her typical fashion, my 10 a.m. hair appointment waited until three minutes before her appointment to saunter out of her car, gather her snack and drink, and waddle up my walkway. This gave me enough time to log out of Facebook and Safari and power down the MacBook. The short trot from the car to the front door put the poor thing into a deep perspiration on this particularly hot summer day. It is always such a joy to dig into damp hair moistened from sweat.

Following the formalities, of which shade of crazy will be applied during this session and how extreme the hairstyle will range, a conversation about mutual friends ensued that scarred this hairstylist for life. It seems the patriarch of the mentioned family had or has a penchant for sending out pictures of his junk and my dear customer was fortunate enough to be the recipient of his ham spam.

Viv is in her mid-40s and the gentle grandfather she referred to would be in his late 60s. According to her story that I immediately deemed as fiction, photographs of this loveable man’s erect package were sent via social media messaging.

Shock! Horror!

“This can’t be true!” I gasped. “Are you sure it was him?”

“Absolutely, he showed me his junk” Vivian replied and then diligently began to search her iPhone for the geriatric junk images. But, as expected, and oh so thankfully, Grandpa’s banana boat was nowhere to be found. Turns out, as soon as Miss Hotness received the photo of the two peas and a pod, she deleted and blocked his ass as a contact from the social media site, or so she claimed. Viv was still able to view the perverted papa’s profile and as we who are prolific in social media are aware, if you block a person, you cannot view the person in question’s information.

Just another day of salon life. I will never be able to look him in the eye again.

The characters in these stories are fictional, although based on true salon life compiled from over 25 years of experience.