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Devachan

So, last night at 7pm, I skipped on down to Devachan for my $120 hair cut.  Since it was a place that claims all of it’s “stylists” are “experts” in curly locks, I had relatively little anxiety.  I walked in, was ushered back to a coat check to receive a silk robe and then left to sit and wait for Marvin.  I wasn’t even offered a glass of tap water.  Marvin came out in his ubertight AX black t-shirt, and I immediately realized he was a bitch.  See, there are two types of gay male hairdressers:  your best girlfriend, and your worst enemy.  Your worst enemy has breast envy, looks you up and down with disgust and then makes you feel unworthy of their presence.  They try to steal your man, copy your style, and gossip behind your back.  This is Marvin.  He asked what “we” were doing and I said I’d like 3 - 4 inches off.  Marvin then assumed I’d like a lot of layers, and I pointedly told him that excessive layers turns my hair into a poodle cut.  He insisted on a few.  Whatever.  So he grabs my hair in chunks, pulls it straight out to the side so that it’s at a 90 degree angle to my head and cuts off 3 - 4 a full 8 or 9 inches.  My hair is dry, so there’s no excuse for it.  He’s an “expert”, so he can’t claim he didn’t realize how much he was taking off.  After dividing my hair into 7 (I counted) sections and ripping his gnarly fingers through it, chopping off whole hair communities, he shot me over to Marissa for a wash.  Marissa was a true sweetheart.  She actually spoke to me, and bothered to ask my name (Marvin’s only conversation to me the entire time he was cutting my hair was the layers debacle).  He then insists on using so much product that my hair feels like it hasn’t been washed in three weeks months and then sprays it down with “shine.”  Shine is oil mist for those of you who don’t know.  I’m out in UNDER 50 MINUTES and am out a full $150 (including tip).  Marvin then has the audacity to try and sell me their products.  I reply that I only use Aveda and he mentions he used to work there.  That is the only attempt at conversation he made the entire time.  The receptionist who told me I had “beautiful and stunning hair” on the way in, had a look of panic and shock when I went to pay.  She said, “oooh, wow.  That’s quite a change.  You don’t seem surprised…usually people are shocked.”  I stand stoically and hand her my card.  It’s clear to all of us that he’s ruined my hair.  And killed my spirit.  I’ve already contacted the “principals” and “partner” at the salon about this, so hopefully they’ll offer me a reach around or something to make up for the horrific end result.  The best part?!  When I washed it last night (I absolutely had to, as there was so much product in my hair that it would have ruined my sheets), I realized that the cut IS UNEVEN.  That’s the icing on the cake.