Hear Ye, Hear Ye

I finally made a visit to a salon after an 18 month boycott. (Going gray gracefully is total crap.) In order to support my local markets I made an appointment with a local hairdresser. She was only a couple of years older than me which is something new. I figured this out when we discussed the prospect of new hair color and never once did she point to the cherry or grape kool-aid colored hanks of hair on the board. Before I settled into the chair for the long process of all-over hair coloring (my hair is deceivingly voluminous) I made sure I grabbed a stack of the most recent magazines.

Two and a half hours later I walked out of the salon and my head was still swirling with all of the new information that I picked up. It wasn't the latest reality show/celebutante tantrum/political scandal - instead I listened to some of the juiciest gossip and hearsay this side of the Continental Divide that put those magazines to shame. I listened as woman after woman entered the salon sat in the chair behind me and began pouring out blistering stories that make your daily soap operas pale in comparison. No one paid much attention to me listening intently as I sat in the chair, slunk down so the vertically challenged colorist could reach the top of my head.

I didn't really mean to eavesdrop - it just sort of happened on its own. After the second customer started sharing the story of a woman that caught her husband cheating and subsequently poured hot grease on his nether-regions...I couldn't stop myself. My ears perked up as the story ended with "charges of spousal abuse" and "hospitalization with penile debridement every 4 hours". At that moment I knew I had to pay more attention.

I soon learned stories of why a restaurant changed its name ("sounds better, charge more money"), the latest high school student drug scandal, who was losing their home (this went on for a long time because the customer was getting a perm and seemed to be overly aware of the financial health and status of the majority of the town), the political problem that created the aforementioned foreclosure and then the subsequent divorces and spousal cheating that followed.

Every Sunday I feel like I need to scour the local newspaper for the latest happenings and news. I very rarely learn of anything that I haven't already heard about from friends, neighbors or co-workers. Perhaps the journalists of this little paper should spend more time getting their hair done?