Breaking up…

Is hard to do – or so the song goes. But what if you aren’t breaking up with a lover? What if you have to break up with someone else. Someone for whom you feel some sort of commitment or loyalty. Is that any different? Or is it any easier?

These are questions I am pondering, because I need to break up with someone. My hairdresser.

I feel quite a lot of angst about this because my hairdresser, Susan*, has been with me for a while now.

Don’t get me wrong though… I am no stranger to playing the field. I am no lilly-livered innocent. I have strayed before.

Several years ago, Susan and her husband moved away, and I loyally remained at the salon for a while before tiring of the constant turnover of staff. Fortunately for me at the time, her absence meant I didn’t feel traitorous when I moved to a handier trendy inner-city salon. Priced similarly to the old place, it came with a lot of bonuses – fabulous robes, great food, alcohol and a few minor celebrities. However, it was almost impossible to get into – even weeks in advance – and I have to admit, I didn’t feel sufficiently important enough to be remembered from visit to visit and often felt like I was supposed to be grateful to be allowed to even set foot in the door.

So, I decided I would find somewhere closer to my home and less expensive. There were a few hits and misses before I found a great place nearby that cost about half that of the earlier hairdressers.

I went there for almost two years. It was fairly small, but I appreciated the price and proximity. I ended up pretty much sticking to one hairdresser, who was good, though every time I left the salon he styled my hair in some frumpy middle-aged type bob. Despite my pleading each time, he kept doing it. Finally, on what became my last visit, I sat there and realised that he was pretty much just humouring me – feigning interest in my life. I know that for him it was just a job but I realised that he was actually the sort of guy who wasn’t terribly interested in what anyone else wanted or thought.

In the meantime I had received a letter and text message from my original hairdresser that my much-beloved Susan had returned. So, I decided that I would as well.

It was wonderful. As I opened the door bright and early that Saturday morning, she greeted me like a long-lost friend. Each time I visit she recalls what I said the previous visit and remembers aspects of my life – as I do hers. Now I am pretty sure she is like that with everyone (and I have in fact seen her in action), but it makes me feel ‘welcomed’ and comfortable with her. With her there, I belong. So what is my dilemma, you may ask?

For more than one year now, my hair has been very short. This means I have to visit the salon every 4-6 weeks and frankly – the hundreds of dollars it costs can sometimes be a bit of a strain and is a bit hard to justify as others tighten their belts. So, despite my feelings of loyalty and devotion to Susan, I need to break up with her. I need to go somewhere else!

I know the options seems obvious. I can: 1) let her know that I am going elsewhere and why (and I am sure she would understand; or 2) just go elsewhere and hope I don’t run into her at some point in the future (and live with the guilt!).

Easy really – cos obviously I would take option 2. But – and herein lies my problem – I don’t actually want to leave her.

The guy I disliked from the nearby (cheaper) place has since gone. I know I someone else there could probably to do as good a job as Susan. But, will I find someone who makes me feel as welcome, as appreciated and as loved.

So, this is what it all boils down to. While there is some loyalty and guilt at stake, I am dazzled by Susan’s effusive greetings and seemingly caring and attentive manner. The big question is – will I choose that sense of belonging, that attention, over my hip-pocket?

* Name changed to protect the innocent