Not Quite the Vibe I’m Going for

Saturday afternoon, sunny but chilly. Spontaneously, I had decided to run the girls over to a nearby chain hair salon for much-needed haircuts. I held the front door open for Grace and Anna.

Inside, the hair salon was surprisingly not busy. A petite woman with chin-length brown hair and glasses greeted the girls and me. I smiled and said we were there for my daughters.

“And if there isn’t a long wait,” I added, “I’ll get a trim too.”

No wait at all, the lady said. There were two other hairstylists a bit back in the salon. She said they just needed to clean up, and then they’d all be ready for us.

Wonderful, I said.

A small screen on the reception desk refreshed to a list of our names, the next customers: Anna L., Grace L., Melissa L.

“Awww, so sweet,” I said. I wanted to take a picture on my phone, to capture the memory, but the hairstylists were already ready.

Anna went with the petite lady and Grace with a smiling woman with long, curly hair. I, meanwhile, got a youngish-looking guy. Anna was on my left side, Grace on my right.

“This is so fun,” I said to my hairstylist. Let’s call him Chris. (His name isn’t really Chris.)

Chris was very nice. He agreed, it was so fun that my daughters and I were all getting our hair cut at the same time, in a row. So fun and so cute.

“So what are we doing?” he asked, gesturing with a comb.

Oh, just a trim, I replied. I hadn’t even been planning on getting my hair cut that day, so if he would just trim an inch or two, freshen me up a bit, that would be great.

“Or,” Chris said, “we could do a style of some sort. I’m thinking a bob.”

I can be easily persuaded, friends. Easily persuaded. “OK, if you think that would look good…”

Yes, Chris said. Yes.

OK, I agreed.

Let’s call him Chris. (His name isn’t really Chris.)

Snip, snip. Snip-snip-snip.

My head was bowed down, and suddenly I saw a lot of hair falling from my head downward onto the floor. “Hey there, um, Chris?”

“Yes?” Snip, snip.

“Yes, um, I’m just wondering… Hmm, possibly I should have confirmed before… I don’t want my hair to be really short.”

Pause.

Eek. I cleared my throat. “I mean, shorter is good, but longer in the front, you know?”

“Right, like I said before: short, then shorter.”

“Mm-hmm, but longer in the front, right?”

“Right. Short, then shorter.”

“…right.”

This is when I told myself, whatever. Whatever, friends. Whatever happens to my hair, it will grow back…eventually.

Meanwhile, to my left, Anna was finished. Her hairstylist put a hand over her heart. “Twinsies!” she exclaimed.

Anna had told her hairstylist she wanted her hair to be cut chin-length like hers, and now, both Anna and her hairstylist did indeed look similar. I could tell my younger daughter was smiling underneath her pink, flower-speckled face mask.

On my right, my older daughter’s haircut was wrapping up too. “People pay a lot of money to have their hair highlighted the way yours naturally is,” Grace’s hairstylist said, putting some finishing touches on Grace’s new angled style.

Grace beamed.

Then Chris announced to me, “Ooh, I like how your cut came out lopsided.”

Hold up.

I glanced in the mirror. Exhaled. “Mm-hmm, could you even it out, please?”

“Or,” Chris said, running a comb through the right side of my hair, “you could part it here, a really dramatic side part.” He leaned over and lowered his voice. “Sexy.”

(Side note, folks: I promise I’m not taking poetic license or embellishing anything. These are all direct quotes. All of this is, unfortunately, a true story.)

“Awww, haha, thanks, Chris.” Both my daughters were now staring, confused, at my currently really dramatic side part. “That’s not quite the vibe I’m going for, though. So if you could just, you know, fix my hair, that would be great.”

Sure, no problem, Chris agreed. Snip-snip-snip.

“…I like how your cut came out lopsided.”

It’s always an adventure, friends. Always an adventure.

A few days later, I was at the grocery store. I went up to the deli counter, where I said hello to Mark, one of the workers I’ve come to know. (His name really is Mark.)

I told Mark the things I needed. He began getting them ready.

Soon after, an older woman also wheeled her cart up to the deli counter. Somebody else was working behind the counter, but she shook her head and said, “I’ll wait for Mark.” Then to me she added, “He’s the best one.”

I smiled. “He does do a good job,” I agreed.

“Oh, he’s the best,” the woman repeated, with conviction.

Mark heard, and smiled.

I took another look at the woman. She was about a head shorter than I am, probably not more than five feet total. She had beautiful gray hair, and her skin was olive-colored—it reminded me of my grandmother’s.

She, actually, reminded me of my grandmother, and I imagined she might be of Italian-American descent, of the no-nonsense, family-and-food-loving variety.

I didn’t ask, though.

Instead, we chatted about deli meat.

Mark finished my order; I thanked him. Then, at last, I turned back to the woman and said, “I really enjoyed talking with you. I don’t mean to get emotional, or personal”—here I got choked up—“but you remind me of my Grandma.” I added that I hadn’t seen her in a long time (since December 2019, because of Covid safety precautions at her nursing home). Finally I stopped, not wanting to make this woman uncomfortable.

But her eyes stayed warm, and kind, and she nodded her head. “Nice talking with you too.”

I said goodbye to her, then goodbye to Mark, and went to get the rest of the groceries on my list.

During the past year, technology has tweaked how we do life: working, learning and exercising at home; contactless food delivery; online everything. There’s been a lot of good in these technologies; I get that.

At the same time…like so many of us, I love getting out there in the world. I love the energy that comes from being around other people, the chance encounters, the adventures that become stories. I love that, and I’m excited for more of it on the horizon.

Even if it means a lopsided haircut every now and then.

What about you?

❤

Photo credit: Pixabay

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Like what you just read? Then check out Melissa Leddy’s e-books on Amazon.com. Short fiction and creative nonfiction writing that’s engaging, witty and from the heart.

You Look Like You Have People With You

Most Sunday mornings, our family of four attends the 9:30 service at a neighborhood church. We very much appreciate the warm community we’ve found there, and the chance to take a seat, take a breath, reflect. And…the girls don’t sleep in, so by 9:30, we’ve already been awake for hours. (“What are we going to do now, Mom?”)

A fellowship follows the service. As the talented pianist plays the postlude, Grace and Anna make a beeline for the hall where tables of cookies, fruit and juice await.

One Sunday recently, they dashed off as usual, Stanton close behind. I gathered up our coats, hats and water bottles. I shrugged my own coat on, and noticed that one of the buttons was loose. Something to take care of…some other time.

I reached the fellowship hall, and bumped into a fellow congregant. He smiled. “You look like you have people with you,” he said, gesturing to my arms full of stuff.

I smiled back. “I do, somewhere in here.” Then I added, “I love that quote; it would be a great title for a blog post.”

He joked that he’d have to be careful what he said around me. “I don’t disparage people in my writing,” I promised. But I can’t help when inspiration strikes.

This is that post, friends.

I’ve been wanting to write this post since that Sunday. It’s been at least three weeks now, maybe four. Other things seemed to keep popping up, most of them related to the people I have with me.

At times, our people’s stuff can weigh us down (all those coats!). The weight can be physical, or emotional. Then a moment might happen that makes it all feel worth it.

This happened to me, just yesterday evening. Snow began falling around 6 p.m. The girls thrust their hands toward the front bay window. “Look, Mom, look! Maybe school will be closed tomorrow. We can build a snow girl together!”

I very nearly cried. Because Stanton has been traveling for work since Monday morning. All of us are traveling to visit family for Thanksgiving this weekend. There was already no school on Monday because of Veterans Day, and all I wanted was a few hours today to finish cleaning, packing and maybe even writing…alone.

I did not want…to build a snow girl.

Later that night, I tucked Grace into bed, and then Anna. Anna wrapped her little arms around my neck. “I love every part of you, even your eyeballs,” she said.

“Awww, thank you, honey.” I kissed her good night, and then lay beside her until she was asleep, our heads sharing a pillow.

When I looked at Anna, her breathing gentle in the moonlight-burnished room, her hand on mine, I felt a deep sense of gratitude, for both my daughters. For their good health, their safety, who they are.

When I think of my family, I think of a lyric from an old song I used to like (and one you may remember) called “Butterfly Kisses.” Bob Carlisle sings, “With all that I’ve done wrong, I must have done something right”—to deserve the love in his life, specifically his daughter.

I feel this way, completely. For as good as I may look on the outside (my frequent 9:30 church attendance and all), I could do and could have done better, kinder. I am lucky to have my people, and all their stuff.

“I love every part of you, even your eyeballs.”

When Stanton isn’t home, I usually sleep upstairs with the girls, in Anna’s bed. I’m right there if they need me. One night this week, Grace woke up with a bad dream, so I switched beds to talk with her and sleep beside her. A few hours later, Anna awoke and noticed I was missing. “MOM!!!”

We were all pretty tired by the end of that day, so I turned on “The Boss Baby” for the girls. I watched some of it with them.

I really like this movie (any other grown-ups want to join me in that admission? 😉 ).  I love the brothers’ shared quote, at the end: “Every morning you wake up, I’ll be there. Every night at dinner, I’ll be there. Every Christmas, I’ll be there. Year after year after year. We will grow old together.”

The sentiment in these words speaks to having “people.” Friends, family, those we love. Relationships oblige give and take—from lots-of-coats holding and snow girl-building, to end-of-day movie watching and good-night kissing.

We all appreciate solo moments when we can recharge. Sometimes, we may not get as many of these moments as we like. It’s a beautiful consolation prize, though, to have folks who are there for us…year after year after year.

Now excuse me, friends, while I go help build a snow girl.

Photo credit: Pixabay

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Like what you just read? Then check out Melissa Leddy’s newest short story, “Backtrack.” An engaging read that’s can’t-put-it-down good.

11 Types of People You See at Airports

Post-Thanksgiving, I was standing in line at the Dunkin’ Donuts in the San Antonio airport. It was about 5 a.m. on a weekday morning, and the long line comprised mainly holiday travelers like me.

A yuppie-looking couple (he was wearing the latest North Face jacket; her hair was blown out and stunningly styled at, yes, 5 a.m.) near me was debating whether or not they should continue waiting for their order.

“I mean, how long does it take to make a breakfast sandwich, really?” she asked him.

He seriously considered her question, then shook his head in defeat. “We’ve been waiting a while now.”

She tapped a stacked-heeled foot against the floor. “We may just need to take a hit on ten dollars. Our flight’s already boarding—I just heard the announcement.”

“Yep, I guess so…”

I exchanged glances with the older, sleepy gentleman in front of me. I just want some coffee, our eyes communicated to each other.

The couple power-walked over to their gate, while my Dunkin’ Donuts line inched closer to the register.

In that moment, I realized there are some reliable “types” of people you see at airports. Here are 11 of them.

1. The Couple Still Getting to Know Each Other. Like my yuppie friends above. I have a theory, based on zero scientific evidence and years of people-watching, that the fewer complete sentences couples speak to each other at 5 a.m., the better they know each other.

2. The People Who Just Want Coffee. In their un-caffeinated state, they aren’t interested in deep questions like, “How long does it take to make a breakfast sandwich?” They don’t want to make small talk with the other people in the Dunkin’ Donuts line. They are about 15 minutes away from a caffeine headache. All.they.want.is.coffee.

I have a theory, based on zero scientific evidence and years of people-watching, that the fewer complete sentences couples speak to each other at 5 a.m., the better they know each other.

3. The People Still Wearing Pajamas. On the other extreme of The Couple Still Getting to Know Each Other, The People Still Wearing Pajamas could not be bothered to put on clothes at 5 a.m., let alone comb their hair. This type literally rolled out of bed and arrived at the airport.

During my most recent travels, I saw two children wearing pajamas—one at the Chicago airport (a plaid flannel set), the other in Albany (theme: Disney princesses). OK: They’re kids; they’re tired; I get it. But adults? Come on now, folks. Why not change into some clean (yet still comfortable) “activewear”?

4. First-Time Parents Flying With Their Child for the First Time. I feel for these folks, because I was them once. This type of airport traveler is laden down with baby gear: car seat; stroller; baby carrier in case the baby isn’t feeling the car seat/stroller combo that day; packed-to-the-max diaper bag; sometimes a Boppy pillow. Often, I let them know I’ve been there, done that and assure them everything will be OK (after I’ve had some coffee, of course).

5. Parents Traveling for the 100^th Time With Their Kids. The more-seasoned moms and dads bring two main things with them: an iPad and a party size bag of something crunchy (Veggie Stix is a popular choice).

6. The Pet-Obsessed. At Baggage Claim in Albany, I watched a middle-aged woman speak lovingly to her tiny dog, who looked comfortable in his faux-fur-padded pet carrier. Another lady, with her own canine in tow, stopped to ask Lady No. 1 how her dog had done.

“Oh, he always does well,” she replied. “We have a house in Boca, and we fly back and forth all the time.” Her husband joined them, his arms full of luggage, and she greeted him by snapping something like, “What took you so long?”

The pet-obsessed: Consistently patient with the four-footed among us.

The more-seasoned moms and dads bring two main things with them: an iPad and a party size bag of something crunchy (Veggie Stix is a popular choice).

7. College Students Returning to School After Break. Like The People Still Wearing Pajamas, College Students Returning to School After Break more often than not also opt for sleepwear rather than “awake-wear.” A noticeable difference, however, between these two groups: The coeds bring books with titles like “Capital in the Twenty-First Century” and “Environmental Communication and the Public Sphere” onboard as their carry-ons.

8. Business Travelers. Business travelers can get a bad rap for being self-absorbed—in their phones, in their 24/7 work, in their airport VIP lounges. What I appreciate about them, though, is that they are used to traveling. Thus, they take up minimal time and space navigating through the security lines. They often come prepared with noise-canceling headphones, which means they don’t glare at your kids when little Emma and Aiden have their inevitable meltdowns. Unlike…

9. School Sports Teams. The letterman jackets, the athletic-striped sweatpants, the selfies featuring team-logoed caps and the starting lineup flashing the “hang ten” sign—school sports teams in airports tend to make themselves comfortable, and make a bit of noise.

10. Grandparents Who Just Visited With Their Grandkids. You overhear these older folks talking about how wonderful it was to see “all the kids.” Their heads almost touch as they lean over together, scrolling through pictures on their phones (and, sometimes, clicking through their actual cameras). They’ve been together a long time—weathered life’s ups and downs—and aren’t bothered by long fast-food lines or Baggage Claim delays. They just saw their family, and they’re HAPPY.

11. Soldiers Returning Home. Every once in a while, I’m privileged to witness a uniformed military man or woman reuniting with their family. The look in their eyes—the gratitude, the joy—the all-encompassing embraces that follow. Even the least sentimental among us, I think, feel a twinge in our hearts when we see such a sight—soldiers returning home.

They just saw their family, and they’re HAPPY.

There you have it, friends: my 11 types of airport travelers. Which ones did I miss?

Photo credit: Pixabay

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Like what you just read? Then check out Melissa Leddy’s newest short fiction e-book, “This Is Just a Story.” Fun, timely and thought-provoking.

Would You Like to Try Our Kiosk?

I walked into a popular fast-casual restaurant the other morning—my “office” for the next few hours. My car keys in hand and my laptop under my arm, I headed to the cash registers.

“Good morning, ma’am,” a friendly employee interrupted me.

I smiled hello.

“Would you like to try our kiosk?” He gestured to the new iPad-like device up front.

“Um…”

“You can order for yourself,” he explained.

“Um…no, thank you.” I smiled good-bye. Then I continued on my path to the cash registers. A chatty young lady (her name tag said Ashley) greeted me and took my order (breakfast sandwich and small coffee).

Is it old-fashioned or out-of-style to want to talk to people? To prefer human interaction to touchscreens?

Is interpersonal communication going the way of Pokémon cards, VHS tapes and landline phones?

“Would you like to try our kiosk?”

Honestly, sir, no. I’d much rather spend a few minutes in conversation with the cashier up ahead. The real-life human being who can ask me how I’m doing, and then let me return the pleasantry.

I’m not a crunchy-granola-type person (not that there’s anything wrong with that!). I have a smartphone, I’ve self-published e-books, I shop online. I appreciate technology.

People matter though. Human interaction matters.

“How are you doing today”—maybe that moment of communication makes a difference to a company’s bottom line. I don’t know. I do know, though, that there’s value in human connection and the empathy that that connection stimulates.

Communication makes a difference too.

“Communication leads to community, that is, to understanding, intimacy and mutual valuing.” (Rollo May)

Which would you choose, friends, a person or a kiosk? Tell me why.

Photo credit: StockSnap.io

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Like what you just read? Then check out Melissa Leddy’s e-books, available on Amazon.com. Writing at its most heartfelt.