Tuesday, October 11, 2016

An Italian Haircup

I have been getting my hair cut and my beard trimmed for over 30 years by an excellent Italian “Hair Stylist” (I am told they prefer that over “barber”). When you have been going to the same shop for that long, it is hard to change, and although he is now partially retired I try to fit my need for a trim into his schedule, and although his younger brother does an equally great job, I do like to go back to him when I can. Being away from home for over nine weeks, I had to get an especially short cut to make it last, and since my “hair stylist” was away in Italy, his brother did the job. As he is not so familiar with my beard, Regis said he did not cut it short enough. I had waited for the last minute to get this done, so it was a case of too late, so sad, it’ll have to do . . . .

A Handy Italian 'Hair Stylist"
Now if you read my previous post on “The People You Meet”, you will know that we are getting to know a lot of great folk on this cruise. Early on the cruise we enjoyed the company of two lovely ladies from Toronto, and have met up with them for additional dinners and events around the ship. We knew that Angela was Italian (She shouted that out in the Vista Lounge on the first evening), and we knew Jane was a friend and client, but we did not find out her profession until later.

Turns out that she is a well known hair stylist in Toronto, owning several salons and clipping, trimming, colouring, and making presentable some of the well known and famous in this city.

Looking Our Best on Gala Night
I was not privy to how the topic of Regis’ hair came up, but Angela and Regis decided that it needed a bit of a re-style and she offered to perform that service. She admitted that she did not have her best Italian scissors, but assured us that the ones she travelled with were more than adequate. An appointment was made and after lunch on one of the “Gala Night” (you want to look your best) sea days she came to our stateroom and not only gave Regis a “new do” but also trimmed my beard. Our balcony became her temporary salon, and a bath towel was used to catch the clippings.

I can just imagine the room steward coming to clean our stateroom the following morning, and discovering all the hair on the balcony flooring, “What on earth went on here?” We thought it would blow away on the sea breezes, but no luck.

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