I admit it, I am a bad breaker-upper. After my first boyfriend and I broke up, I decided he didn’t deserve the Billy Joel concert tickets I had bought him mere weeks before, so I took them with me as I left his house. Another guy I was casually dating implored me that even if we stopped dating, to please keep speaking to him. Well, he sent me a salacious card that offended me at the time, and I just simply stopped speaking to him, despite my promise.
But probably the worst break up I’ve ever had was with my former hair stylist. She was the sister of my former college best friend, and I just kind of fell into becoming her customer since I saw her all the time at my friend’s house and such. Not that she wasn’t good, she was fine, but over time, little things started to annoy me.
She was an itinerant hair stylist, always changing her salon. I think during the ten or so years that I went to her, she must have changed salons at least 6 times. She kept selecting salons farther and farther away from where I lived, and it got to be a bit much to travel 45 minutes just to get a haircut.
Along with every move came a price hike. I think she was up to almost $145 for a haircut and partial color weave when I broke up with her.
She also had a bad habit of “working in” other customers during my appointment time, meaning instead of my appointment taking an hour and a half, it wound up taking almost three hours. While I was “conditioning” at the sink she would cut someone’s hair. This took at least 20 minutes. Then, as I was under the dryer, she would cut someone else’s, also adding at least an extra 10-15 minutes. She never asked me if I minded, I guess she just figured it was her prerogative. Eventually, I felt disrespected and used, just like some of my former relationships.
But, what really drove me nuts was that she would always talk about herself. I had always thought that you were the customer, and so the hairstylist was supposed to be the attentive listener-therapist who would commiserate with you about your latest problem. Not her, instead I found myself giving her the advice and having to try to squeeze in some tidbits of my own whenever she would pause for breath.
So I am rather ashamed to say that I allowed her to do the hair and makeup for my wedding, and then never spoke to her again. I know, I know, I should have called her, wrote her a “dear Jane” letter or something. But, I am a wimp when it comes to things like that, and as the examples above show, I am not very good at breaking up. It is not so much malice on my part, I simply slink away and try to avoid directly hurting someone’s feelings. As if she hadn’t noticed that her customer of 10 years stopped coming. But, as guilty as I feel, I haven’t had the guts to ever say anything, even though my sister and mom (whom I referred to her) still go to her on a regular basis. Coward, thy name is Glinda.