A Trip To The Hairdresser...

 I went to the hairdresser's on Saturday. It was a latently gloomy day, with clouds in the sky and rain on the horizon. It did in fact rain after a while of being at the hairdresser's. It was supposed to rain for a while, but as we all know, rain is a bit of a taboo in California.

This particular hair salon, as many tend to be in suburbia, is located in a strip mall across from the library, surrounded by a dental office, a sushi restaurant, and American restaurant, and a Thai restaurant, and a Baskin Robbins. The shrubbery lining the side of the road near all these shops reminds the visitor that they are visiting an outpost within nature. There's still bushes and trees, even among all this human construction. Coming down from the highway, we passed by Premier Inns, a motel/hotel that I used to work the front desk at. I worked there for about a month, before I was fired for sleeping on the couch which I pulled out from the lobby to sleep in the back. It was kind of a demanding job, especially because I was working two other jobs at the same time. I eventually lost all three. On the highway, we also passed a Denny's and a Motel 6, the yellows and blues blurring into each other, the signs and symbols of suburbia sweeping by. 

When I got out of the car in my wheelchair, there was a slight bite to the air, a slight chill which was unmistakeable. My mom mentioned out loud to my dad, who was there to get a haircut as well, that this (the restaurant in front of us) was the restaurant that my sister took us out to. It indeed was the restaurant my sister took us out to. She spent quite a bit of money too. I felt kind of bad, when she paid, mostly because I didn't contribute anything. But then again, I'm disabled, so it's not for lack of trying. If I was still working at that office I was working at in 2022, I would definitely pay, that is, if I didn't spend all my money on vapes and cigarettes.

I used to spend a shit-ton of money on vaping and cigarettes. At least $10 a day, which is like a lunch and really adds up over time. Around $20 if I decided to buy a vape that day. I could smoke like a pack a day and vape through an entire vape in one day. So naturally the first thing I did when I got any money was to buy a vape. I bought a vape recently on Monday, smoked it for a few days, then confessed to my mom and begged her to get rid of it on Thursday. I got addicted to that shit so fast. By Tuesday, I was smoking the first thing I did when I woke up, and by Wednesday, I was waking up at like 3AM to vape. So it gets really bad and I know that. And I really don't want to start that shit again. It's so fucking addictive. And I hate myself on it.

So I think that was partially the reason my mom brought us to the hair salon, my vaping, though it was unspoken. I felt like in a way she was rewarding me for telling her about it, encouraging me to quit, but also in a way punishing me because I hate getting my haircut. I feel like I get traumatized every time I get my haircut. 

The hair salon is a place of refuge and a cultural touchpoint, I feel. I feel like we were also going to the hairdresser's to decolonize. Decolonize our vibes, our auras, to get in touch with our roots maybe. This particular hair salon was owned and managed by a single Chinese lady from Zhejiang. She did all the haircutting herself, and dying, and pretty much everything. She's the only one there. And when we got there, she was playing this one song on her iPhone which kept playing over and over again. It was like real-life vaporwave. And I did feel like I was getting decolonized. I felt that simply by the fact that we spent nearly four hours there, we were doing a deep spiritual cleanse, and were engaging in a cultural reset, of course. The atmosphere, music, and vibes were healing, maybe, at least for me, although my parents didn't fight less after we got out of there. 

I feel like when we first got there, there were these two Indian girls getting their hair done. One was getting her hair dyed, and the other was waiting to get her hair cut. We got there at approximately 5PM, though time is of no object when you are in the hair salon. In the hair salon, there is no space or time. There is only the smell of hair dye and the same Chinese pop-rock song playing on loop for an hour at a time. However, my mom started feeling sort of anxious waiting, especially after a few more walk-ins came in after us, and the single hairdresser lady felt bad so she microwaved some baozi for me and my family to eat because my dad was complaining he was hungry. I like to think I wouldn't have complained about the time or being hungry if I were there alone. But this may not be true.

I posted a picture of one of the advertisement posters on my Instagram. At this point my phone was running out of battery. I was also listening to yurp by lulx on SoundCloud. I also emoposted on Instagram about how the hairdresser touching my head was making me emotional, because I was getting my hair dyed. And it was. I don't know why, but being touched by a stranger (the hairdresser lady) made me feel cared for and taken care of in a way that moved me nearly to tears. I thought maybe it was because I was withdrawing from nicotine, but I think maybe I've just been more emotional lately. I almost cried multiple times today and I haven't vaped in like four days. I don't know, though. I could be still withdrawing.

After the hairdresser finished dying my hair (I was getting highlights for the first time) she put me under this hair heater thing, probably to speed up the dying process. I couldn't hear anything, but I knew the same song was still playing on her phone. My mom kept saying the same song kept playing, but I really didn't mind it, because as I've said, it reminds me of vaporwave. 

After I got my hair dyed, I was ecstatic, because the dye job turned out exactly how I wanted it to. The highlights were so bright and tea. But after I got my hair cut, much of the highlights got removed, so then I was sad. It's okay though, it'll grow back. I looked through this fairly vintage (by 2025 standards) hairstyle book to select my haircut. I really didn't want to cut my hair though. I feel like I was riding the high of my dye job and so agreed to the haircut. Oh well.

At this point even the dog was waiting for me. I told the hairdresser, "Our whole family's moved into your salon." lol. And did. And then we left. The rain had stopped.