Pressdog.com

Cheating on Donna

By Bill Zahren
(Posted 08/29/00)

For the record, this wasn't some random encounter, some meaningless Yellow Pages pickup. Kristi came recommended. My co-worker, Shannon, fixed us up. Still, the noontime liaison left me feeling mildly unfaithful, somewhat follicly adulterous.

But looking in the mirror during the cold, unflinching light of the morning after, I realized the stark truth: I have a new hair woman.

I got my hair cut last week by Kristi. Well-coifed, large flip-flop shoes, black "dying apron," thoughtful gazes upon my head, approximate age 20 -- striking. It was the first time in 12 years someone other than Donna, co-owner of Morningside Barber and Beauty in Sioux City, Iowa, has groomed me. Well, there was that one fling with my high school girlfriend-turned-hair stylist, Mary, who clipped me one Saturday back in my hometown. And that time from 1986-1988 when I lived in Le Mars and the old Main Street barbers cut me. Other than those dalliances, the hair on my misshapen head has remained Donna's domain since 1983.

But, when we moved from Sioux City 200 miles south and east to Des Moines, we had to find a new cadre of key people. You know, life's regular cast of walk on, service industry characters -- doctor, dentist, chiropractor, mechanic, clergy person, plumber, heating and AC guy and, of course, barber/hair stylist.

Forget about finding barbers. You can't swing a dead cat anywhere on the planet and hit a barber pole anymore. It's all "salons" these days. Places where you sit in their chairs and they cover you with a fu-fu, hot-pink-and-flowers sheet. The land of hair painted with toxic stuff and wrapped in tinfoil or yanked through bizarre swimming-cap-like devices.

Whole different deal from my childhood in the '70s back in Lake Park, Iowa (population 1000, including pets). Back then, all males went to see Barber Bill, half way up the hill on Main Street. He sold fishing stuff out of his barbershop and was famous for giving us "white walls," so-named because Bill shaved the sides of our heads down to the white hair nubbins. I think Bill went to the great barbershop in the sky long ago. His old shop is an insurance or real estate office now.

Then there was Donna, my first non-male "stylist." She came recommended by my college freshman roommate, Dave "I kick field goals" Chop. But now I've jilted her. We knew it was over during my last visit in late July. I just paid, said thanks one last time and left, then moved out of town a few days later. Last week, noticing Shannon's stylish 'do and having had other good recommendations from her, I hit her up for a hair person. She put me on to her salon, "Elements."

Kristi and I seemed to hit it off -- well as much as required in a stylist-client relationship. Talked about her dogs and my kids. She talks a little more than Donna, but not much. Did a nice job with the hair.

The whole hair thing is a crapshoot. You could roll snake-eyes, as in going to the same stylist at your significant other. Bad plan. What if one of you wants to get a divorce from the stylist? That leaves the other in limbo, torn between the stylist and the sig other. I'd call those 50-50 odds at best, men. No, it's better to go somewhere completely different than your wife, or at least see a different stylist in the same salon.

And you also have to watch out for those places that give you a hair cut that require major tweaking before you can go out in public. A co-worker of mine claims he once had a hair cutter fond of slapping enough hair care products on him until he looked like Eddie Munster coming out of the chair.

He had to race from the salon to his car and from his car to his house so no one would see the unmitigated 'do. Once he washed his head, everything was OK. I know the feeling. Don't have me coming out of the chair sporting my father's circa 1971 Brylcreem (little dab'll do ya!) look.

Women's hair is a whole different universe entirely. All women hate their hair. They hate the old look. They hate the new look. They hate their natural color. They hate their dyed color. They hate their hair's lack or surplus of natural thickness/body/curl. They get a new 'do, then spend hours basically styling it back to the way it was originally.

I'm convinced that some women could get their heads shaved one day and then next manage to have the stubble looking remarkably like their old 'do. Their whole life becomes a quest for a "cute cut." If one woman gets a new hair cut, the others go off at length about it. Coffees are arranged and discussion groups form.

So I asked Kristi if most women changed 'dos often or stayed with one forever. She paused and looked thoughtful. "Most people find something that works for them and then pretty much stay with that." Seconds later she asked me "don't you like your wife's hair." Sorry, Kristi. I may be twice your age but I'm not so senile as to answer that question.

I love your hair, honey. It's the best hair in the world. Hollywood stars would kill for your hair. Julia Roberts e-mails me thrice daily begging for your hair secrets. And men, if she asks, you LOVE the hair. Even if she looks like a static electricity experiment gone horrible wrong, YOU LOVE IT.

Most men, on the other hand, look for two things in a hair style 1) low-maintenance and 2) cheapness. My wife's last 'do, including hair care products: $106. (Worth every penny, honey.) Mine: $18.95. If I didn't think I would look like a giant, fat thumb or Private Pyle from the movie Full Metal Jacket, I'd just shave my head and be done with it. But I don't want to scare my own children, so I go for something less radical.

Donna and I will always have memories, but times change. I think Kristi's going to work out fine, as long as she leaves my wife's hair out of it.

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