I Dreamed about my Hair Salon Last Night


As you know, there is a virus going around. All non-essential businesses have been shut down in the entire state of California.

I texted my hair person yesterday since my appointment was supposed to be this week My stylist? Hair dresser? What do I call her? The woman who does my hair.

Are you still doing hair?

Nope, some girls tried to do hair with the lights off last week, but the police came and told them to shut down.

It makes sense. It’s hard to keep six feet between you and your client when you’re washing her hair in the sink.

Last night I participated in my first ever virtual wine-tasting. My friend Barbara invited a dozen women to get onto Skype at 6:00 so that we could see each other as we drank our wine, or in my case, hot water.

Most of us were pretty green at Skype, but hilarity ensued as it became apparent that I had control of the grid and could drag and drop people into the 4-part grid from the row of little round faces above.

“Who’s doing that?” the women kept asking as they refilled their glasses and I messed with their screens.

But I digress.

One of the women at the virtual wine-tasting said her hairdresser had offered to come to her home and do her hair.

My colorist lives in Auburn on the way to Tahoe and only comes down to my town two days a week. She has made no such offer.

I thought about getting a box of hair color at the drugstore, remembering a much older lady ahead of me in line the last time I was there. She was buying four boxes of Lady Clairol. That smart woman was planning ahead. I was more concerned with overnight diapers and Rx meds that day. And water.

In my dream, the hair salon was huge and filed with women. They were only doing haircuts, not color. My bill was $37.00. I couldn’t figure out the tip. A woman came in and sat down right next to me. I wanted to pay the bill and get out of there, but I couldn’t figure out 20% of $37.00. I finally wrote the check for $42.00 and tried to pay my hairdresser, but she had disappeared. Then I woke up.

Everyone in the virtual wine tasting talked about how they are cleaning, purging, drinking, cooking, and spending quality time with their pets. Someone suggested we do it again and share recipes. It was hard to hear with a dozen households in the background – barking dogs, impatient husbands (only two), and some TV noise or something to distort our hearing. It was an hour and half of chaos but still better than mindless TV.

We are all in the same boat, that tender age of 60 and up where the virus could potentially kill us if we get it. One of us is fighting cancer. Most of us have underlying health conditions of one sort or another, even though we are physically active — still riding bicycles, hiking, and dancing. Wait! Not dancing. Impossible with social distancing.

The nightmares of Coronavirus. So far, it’s just about hair dye. I am crossing my fingers that it doesn’t get any worse than that.

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