In
Tampere
It
wasn't quite clear why my mother had spent the night in Tampere, but
we were supposed to pick her up and bring back to Uusikaupunki. Concequently,
my father parked his car in the Tampere city centre. We were supposed
to meet up at 12:30, so we had half an hour to spend.
My
dad went to a lottery kiosk. I followed but then noticed a barber's
shop. My hair had grown too long and looked untidy. "I'll have
a hair cut while waiting," I said. My father said he'd join me
once finished with the lottery.
In
the barber's shop a middle-aged man sat in the barber's seat. Next
to the man there were empty seats on each wall. The mirrors reflected
the emptiness making the shop look larger than it actually was.
Across
the curtain an elderly lady emerged with scissors in her hand. She
hurried to her customer and apologized for the wait. The man said
it was all right; he hadn't even finished his newspaper.
I
cleared my throat, "Any chance for a quick hair cut?" The
barber noticed me and answered, "Just sit down."
I
found it hard to decide which chair to choose, but eventually I sat
by the window. The barber said, "Please wait. This will take
a few moments." She then started cutting the hair of the middle-aged
customer.
I
browsed the magazines. I didn't have much time but the barber seemed
fast enough. Soon she took the cover off and brushed the shoulders
of the previous customer. He paid, thanked and exited.
The
barber turned to me and asked, "What will it be then?"
"Let's keep the same model," I said, "Just shorten
the hair evenly."
"How short?"
"You can use the machine for the neck and the sides. A little
less from the top."
The
lady combed, grabbed my front hair, measured with her fingers, and
clipped the residue. She then moved on to the central part and and
continued with the same technique. She commented on the condition
of my hair and said I shouldn't wash it every day. "Your hair
is in a bad shape. Look at these forked ends." She showed me
some hair she had just cut. "Of
course you could use a better conditioner," she continued, "What
stuff do you usually use?"
"I can't remember. Some All-In-One product."
"Separately the conditioner might work better. Have you used
this?" The barber showed me a bottle. I replied I hadn't but
I could always try. "Let's take that the bottle then," the
barber said and put it on the table.
She
switched the machine on and started cutting my hair at the neck. The
machine purred at the back of my head while the ends of the hair fell
on the floor.
After
a while the lady switched off the machine and took another product
from the shelf. "Have you used this shampoo?"
"What's that?"
"It's a special shampoo, which will be just right for your hair."
"How much?"
"50 marks."
The
shampoo was very expensive, but I didn't feel like arguing. "Sure.
Let's take that too."
The
barber continued with the machine. She was careful at keeping the
lines straight. From time to time she stopped the machine and inspected
the hair from different angles and also through the mirror.
The
right side seemed problematic. The barber said that in my current
position it would be impossible to cut it straight. "Can you
rise up a bit, so I see better?"
"Like this?"
"That's better. But slightly more, thank you."
The
barber continued cutting behind the right ear. I was standing up with
my legs on both sides of the chair. The position was awkward and,
even if the cutting now proceeded better, my muscles started to hurt.
"Don't wobble like that," the barber complained, "I
can't cut if you won't stay still."
I
said I couldn't help the trembling. My feet were positioned far too
uncomfortably.
The
lady took another product from the shelf, stooped beside me and said,
"This will help to your trembling legs." She sprayed some
liquid to my knees. A chilling cold made my legs numb. "Liquid
nitrogen," she explained, "No more wobbling feet."
My
knees were frozen inside-out. The barber finished the hair cut and
brushed the extra hair off my shoulders.
I
was transfixed above the chair, legs immovable and wide apart, when
my parents entered the shop. I turned my head and lost the balance.
"That'll do 400 marks," the barber said from the counter.
I'd
have collapsed on the floor unless my father had caught me. I paid
the bill and put the shampoo and conditioner into my bag. "Thanks
a lot and welcome again!" the barber greeted as my parents lifted
me off to the street.
