Thursday, October 16, 2008

To Protect the Innocent

So I got a letter yesterday from a salon/spa that I have visited a few times over the years. It's one of those expensive places that charges my life savings for a pedicure...but everyone speaks English (so there's no awkward "I'm sorry, what?" or smiling and nodding like I know what the fuck they just said) and they don't use those wood router sander things on your toe nails, so it's totally worth the extra money.

Two things about this letter were puzzling to me: 1) Apparently I'm supposed to update my cut and color to "coincide with the changing seasons" which...what? I think I missed the first memo on that topic because I thought I was only supposed to update my cut and color every, say, year and a half when I could stomach the staggering cost and the badly concealed distaste on the stylists face upon touching my 14" dark roots, and 2) The letter was sent to inform me that my stylist Megan was changing her name to Peyton. Again...what? Can you do that, just up and change your first name? OMG I am so going to change mine to Lolita Razzle Dazzle.
Apparently this particular salon/spa has multiple stylists named Megan, and in order to avoid confusion when scheduling appointments, they decided to change everyone's name to slightly more obnoxiously adorable names like Peyton. And probably Reese and Darla. Now, see this is where they lose me. Do the multiple Megans not have LAST names or what? Perhaps they assume their ritzy clientele has permanent brain damage from all the chemical fumes and simply can not be expected to remember both a first name and a last name? I mean, come on. That's TWO WHOLE NAMES people. Like, I am so totally not going to remember that. Even though you gave me a card with your whole fucking name on it the last time I was there.

So the owner was sitting around going, should we call them Megan 1, 2 and 3? No, no...that involves counting - not going to work. Ok, how about Megan, Meygan and Mehghan? No, that won't work. Hmmm...I know! Let's change all of their names! They'll be like double agents and will drink martinis and will be ultra hip.

What I really want to know is which girl got to keep her god-given name? Did they draw straws? Was it a matter of seniority? Was it like America's Top Model and they all cried and scratched each other until only one girl was left with her hair extensions? Or maybe the edgiest of them kept her name to be, like, ironic or something. You know the one I mean, the girl at your salon with the black and red mohawk and facial piercings...because you would expect her to be called something like Fierce.

I suppose the whole ordeal was just an excuse to get up in my face and remind me that I look like shit and had better "book my holiday appointments now!"

Anyway, thought that was interesting. I wonder if my Jill got the same letter, informing her that Sarah was now called Pookie?