Small town girl in the big city (or should I say cities)

I've had a wacky past two days. I was fortunate enough to get a voice over gig through a company that, according to one of their employees, "makes the internet". Well, I believe it, based on the amount of people at computers creating fantastic looking graphics, advertisements and games in their warehouse office. Anywho, I thought it would be silly of me to turn this gig down... the gig itself was for Reach toothbrushes, who are making an internet game for marketing purposes. All pretty cool. Well, Stewart and I (with Stewart at the wheel the whole time) left Toronto at 7:30am on Monday, arrived at 12:30pm, recorded until 2:30pm and then drove back to Toronto to arrive downtown at 7:30pm in enough time to get ice cream and see a show at 8:45pm. Crazy times... but, not so crazy compared to some of the escapades other friends of mine have done for theatre work.

So today, I got up at 8:30 to go downtown with my sister for a hair appointment. First I must preface this part by saying that I do love having my hair cut and have a tendency to go to the stylist compulsively. However, I'd been pretty good this year, not getting many cuts or colors, so I saved up my money for a pre-tour cut. Well, I got so fed up with my hair a month before tour that I got it cut short earlier than expected. Then, I went back the week before leaving for tour and got a trim and highlights. However, once I was on tour, I realised that my hair was already getting bulky. This surely would like horrible by the end of the summer, since I couldn't get a cut before getting back home. So...

I decided to go to my sister's stylist. She'd done my hair before, so I wasn't worried. Carolyn and I were running a bit late, so she dropped me off on a street corner and said roughly "I'm going to park the car. The entrance is just around this building." I'd been to the salon before, so I knew where I was going. I went around the building, entered the Eaton centre and went to the salon. When I told them I had an appointment with Maria, for me and my sister, they brought me to the back to have my hair washed... but it wasn't Maria that came to see me. It was some man named Sergei, or Sergio, or something. I thought he was the manager, just being polite, but next thing I know my hair is washed and he's got the scissors in them. Now, I'm just too damn polite to be really assertive in this kind of situation. However, I did say many times, "I have an appointment with Maria, is she late?" and "Was I not in your appointment book?" I kept looking around the corner to see if my sister would show up, but she never did. Alarm bells were ringing. The cut was looking good enough, so I wasn't upset, but I still didn't feel right. Sure enough, the receptionist comes to see me and says "Your sister is on the phone". It turns out Maria hasn't been in that salon for SIX YEARS... and this isn't the first time that they've bluffed their way through getting some of her clients to stay at their salon. I was near the end of the cut, so I put on a smile, told the stylist that my sister was having problems with the car and the baby and that I had to go. I paid my 58$, sadly, left no tip and got out of there as fast as I could. I felt so violated... some strange man lied to me just to get my freaking 58$ for a haircut. Luckily, I found Maria's new place (turns out my sister said "the entrance is around the other side of THIS building" and she even fixed my cut and charged me next to nothing... and my sister picked up the tab.... such sweeties. We went back to the other salon to complain... it turns out they do have another stylist named Maria, but it was clear that Sergei or Sergio or whatever his name is was trying to cover his tracks for having lied right to my face.

I am clearly too trusting for my own good. I should have just listened to my gut feeling, but I didn't. Luckily, the worse thing that happened to me was a bad haircut.

The moral of this story: Don't fuck with a Toronto hairstylist... they can be viciously competitive... and don't ever get your hair cut at Nino D'arena at the Eaton Centre.