Vicky's

Hello world-wide-web, May this blog find you well, happy, rested, and with all your needs met. In Jesus' Name. Amen. I haven't found a good hairstylist for years now. Used to be easy: even just one good recommendation by a friend was enough to elicit a phone call for an appointment. I don't ask for recommendations anymore because now it's a matter of price. Do I really want to spend between $40 to $70 for a "hair cut" that consists of cutting less than an inch off, a straightening and maybe a deep conditioning? Not so much. Besides, my hair is different from my friends: thick, black, a bit coarse, and did I mention thick? Straightening my hair takes at least an hour. Yesterday I thought I had an appointment with my latest 'permanent' hairstylist; she's Asian, and has a wonderful way of concocting a terrific conditioner for my hair. Turns out she moved to McKinney. Chasing hairstylists was something I did in my 20's and 30's. I've 'matured' now; I don't need to drive all over God's great Earth for a good stylist. Although I was so looking forward to a good hair washing, with strong hands scrubbing away the stress-grime of the day-week. I'm on the East side of Plano when I noticed signs on marquees for Hispanic hair shops. Hmmm, I haven't had a 'Hispanic' hair cut since the 80's and living in El Paso. My aunts used to go to J-town (as we affectionately called Juarez, Mexico) for their hair cuts and I liked to go as well. I got some funky hair styles with lots of hairspray. I remember those days fondly. I pull into a parking lot that had a salon and 'Hispanic' in the title on the marquee. (I can't remember the name of the place, but I know it had these two things in the name.) Much to my chagrin the place was closed, even though by the posted hours on the door it should have been open. I got back in my car, and prayed out loud, "Okay, God, I'm going to need your help finding an Hispanic beauty salon." I saw a panaderia, accent on the 'i'. (for all you first year Spanish blokes, it means bakery.) I thought maybe the baker would know of a good Hispanic hair shop. She did. It was in the same plaza where I was - thanks God. I walk into Vicky's and it's like I'm in J-town all over again: the tacky black and white tile floors, the horrible lighting; hand written warnings in Spanish - please only use quarters in the (coke) machine; various knickknacks that have nothing to do with your hair (like fake roses and Cheetos) are for sale, with a polite warning: please don't eat anything without paying for it first. Jackpot! This pretty Latina walks up to me and asks what I'd like and I tell her a hair cut, deep conditioning, and straightening. She asks me to wait a moment and disappears. When she returns I follow her to her chair. She touches my hair and asks how much I want cut. I answer her, thinking we'll go to the sink and I can get my head massaged... She politely makes sure I understand all of this will cost me $32! $32! Another jackpot! She looks surprised when I ask her if she's going to wash my hair. When we're at the sink, I ask her if she often cuts hair dry and she says yes, that most people don't want to pay the $2 extra for a wash. Puzzled, I say, "A dry cut turns out okay?" She responds in the affirmative, but I have my doubts. After she shampooed my hair - the scrubbing felt heavenly - and put on the deep conditioner, she sat me under the hair drier. I don't think the hair driers have seen much use. She couldn't tell if they were plugged in or not. From where I was sitting I had a perfect view of everyone and everything in the shop. I noticed the clients were mostly men, and were getting mullet cuts, and/or shaves. Cute, Halloween decorations were hung from the ceiling: a blow up witch doll, in her usual black garb and green face, was only a few feet from where I was; at the entrance was a HUGE blown up pumpkin; a Gigantic ghost eerily hovered near it; cobwebs covered the ceiling. Quite festive. No pinatas? Nah, probably would have taken away from the jovial ambiance of the blown up figures. One of the stylist had bleach blond hair in the middle of his head, spiked, with shaved sides that were black. He was dancing and flitting about, listening to an Ipod and waiting on his next walk-in customer. I was under the hair drier for about 20 minutes, which was plenty of time to be observant, say some Hail Marys and talk to God-Jesus, and wonder if this shop saw many women customers. I pondered how many Latinas came into the shop, and which of those could afford the $2 extra for a hair washing, let alone a deep conditioning. This made me sad. Erika retrieved me from under the drier and began cutting my hair. We talked about various things: she's 25, single, also lives with her mom, and has a boyfriend who works at Subway. I will give her a nice tip. The sweet girl thought I was 28! I asked her if she thought about returning to school. She had, but no concrete plans in the making. I arrived at the shop around 5ish, and Erika started straightening my hair around 6:15. Since my hair is so thick, you have to grab a little bit of it at a time to straighten it. One of the other women stylists came over to chat with us. Erika good-naturedly commented, "I understand now what you meant about how much work goes into thick hair!" I laughed. Jokingly I teased, "Yes, you probably need some help straightening the other side of my hair!" The other stylist took me seriously, though, because before you could say, "Hot tamales!" She had her straightener plugged in and got to work. There I was, two beauticians working on my hair. They made me feel like a pampered princess. I didn't find out the other stylists name, but she had big plans: she was from Honduras and going to work in the states for another year; she has two other jobs; cleaning offices and houses, I think she said. She has two children in Honduras, a five-year-old, and an eight-year-old, and plans to build a house in Honduras and open her own salon. It's got to be difficult to leave her children! She said it would be too dangerous to bring them to the states. She and her husband are saving money right now to return to their beloved country. What a difficult life! Hard work too! I like my hair - I think they got it the flattest I've ever had it- and the conditioning has done wonders for the shine in my hair. I gave both of them a good tip and will certainly consider Vicky's my new 'permanent' hair place. Gaaaaaahhhhhddd bless!