Listening To: 1200 Techniques : Choose One (Remix Bonus Disc)

… well it’s either a Seinfeld dilemma, or Friends, or one of those tedious post-modern Yankee sitcoms at any rate ! (Maybe it’s Sex in The City, and I’m Carrie … ha fukin ha, wouldn’t that be the ultimate irony ?) Too bad I missed the episode in question, or I would know what to do :-/

See, I realised something about myself today which I’ve suspected for a fair while now, and I need your help dear readers. If only to save me from being utterly pathetic, which is what this self-realisation implies …

I realised I have … ooooh … let’s just say a wee bit of a ‘thing’ … for my lovely hair stylist, Belinda. You can see the dilemma, can’t you ?

Now, I used to have a different stylist I went to for a fair few years, even going so far as to track her down twice in a row when she moved salons, and the old salon wouldn’t tell where she was (coz of course they don’t want to lose customers). She was very, very good at her job, which is why I stuck with her. Sure, she looked like a sexier, younger version of Sarah Jessica Parker, but she had a fiance for starters and I really wasn’t interested in her in that way – SJP never really did it for me anyway.

Alas that particular stylist has now left the industry – she got sick of doing the same job, and the shit pay – both of which I can totally relate to. It took me a while, including some abbortive attempts like the nice Malaysian man who gave me a trim which resembled ye old schoole ‘bowl cut’, but I finally found myself a new regular stylist, the aformentioned Belinda.

She’s also very, very good at her job. But she’s also very, very, very hot – which is where the problem lies !!!

See, I’ve never had much trouble reading chemistry or signs with women I’m not particularly interested in. But when I chance upon a bird I actually fancy … I tend to quickly turn into an utter, witless moron. Completely bloody chronic, I am. So I don’t know if I’m reading too much into the ‘signs’, or indeed if there are even any signs there that she may just possibly feel at least a smidgin the same way about your humble correspondent.

‘What signs’ I hear you ask ?

OK, my very shaky case rests on utterly circumstantial evidence. For one, she strikes me as the type of hairdresser who chats with her customers (hell … show me a hairdresser who doesn’t !) and I’ve even seen her do it with a few matronly old birds and some chicky getting her hair done for her formal on previous occassions when I’ve waited. Yet whenever I plonk myself down in her chair, and she does her scissor magic, the talk seems more or less dry up. Instead, Belinda mostly alternates between throwing the kind of pseudo-pout you put on to emphasise your bone structure while trying to look like you’re not putting on a pout, and a weird smile I’m pretty sure I recognise from numerous occasions of wearing it myself.

It’s the semi-nervous, semi-flirtatious, mostly-pained “oh god, I think you’re kinda cute but I don’t know what to say …. don’t look at me, don’t look at me … no wait, actually DO look at me, DO look at me … damn … this is so embarassing … I hope it’s over soon … no actually I hope it’s not over soon … maybe if I smile like this long enough I’ll think of something good to say … or maybe you will … shit … la la la etc.” smile :)

I’ve been to see her at least four or five times now, and every time that bloody smile has been there ! Have been trying to work her past it … finally managed to elicit a decent flow of almost-normal conversation out of the lass today – but geez, talk about Nervous Nellie syndrome !

That’s my first bit of shaky, circumstancial evidence. The second ‘sign’ is also smile related, or kinda. It’s the looks / the vibe that she and other ladies in the salon always seem to exchange when I drop in to see if I can get a trim. See, I don’t usually make appointments. I just rock up, and see if she’s free, and if she isn’t I just leave it till next time I happen to be in that end of Castle Hill. But yeah, basically whenever I rock up, I always notice “the look” she cops from the other stylists.

It’s a look that seems to say “it’s that guy again”. It sounds ridiculous when I verbalise it like this of course, and anyway ‘that guy’ could be anything from “that guy you semi-fancy” to “that dickhead loser who looks like he’d devote an entire blog entry to you” … but trust me when I say there’s a ‘look’ exchanged of some significance which eludes me. Maybe it’s just a look which says “don’t blush like I saw you do the first two times he came in to see if you were free for a haircut”. She’s extra cute when she blushes :)

My final bit of fanciful pseudo-evidence stems from the fact that today was actually my first real appointment. Had rocked up yesterday, but Belinda could only take me in half an hour and I had a potential flat-share to inspect then, so in a complete deviation from form (and … hell coz I wanted to spend a half hour in that chair … and soon) I booked for this morning. She always looks pretty sweet, as I think I may have mentioned already, our Belinda does, but when I turned up today it honestly seems like she’d put more effort into her look than usual. Yeah, yeah … she probably had one of the Neighbours cast coming in for a style and colour at 10 o’clock, I know.

Or maybe a nice lunch planned with her boyfriend ….

Remember how I mentioned I usually turn into a complete, unmitigated imbecile where women I really fancy are concerned ? Yes, that’s right … I don’t even know if Belinda is single or not, because I hadn’t thought to steer the conversation around to that and she hadn’t volunteered anything either way (unlike SJP chickie, who had told me about her fiance after the second or third visit … no conversation problems with her) !!!

Essentially then, I am on the horns of a Seinfeld dilemma, to whit -:

I fancy my hair stylist, but I don’t know if that’s one-sided on my part and I daren’t ask her out in case I’m wrong. Good stylists are damn hard to find !

Please read and discuss, and remember class this question will form the bulk of your assessment for Pete Is A Moron 101 …