Free Making It Up As I Go Along by Marian Keyes

lengthy catch-up!
    Step Two: The Coat Removal. When you have
finished your call – and take your time about it,
enjoy
your chat – the
receptionist will offer to take your coat. Be vigilant! This is where the second blow to your
self-esteem will be struck. Some ‘friendly’ comment will be made on your appearance.
On my visit a few days ago the person said, ‘Well! You’re very colourful
today!’ Then he exchanged a look with his colleague and a silent snigger passed between
them.
    There was one time when a hairdresser’s
receptionist stared at my handbag and said, ‘Is that Prada?’ And when I said it was,
he said, ‘From the cheap range?’ (This is an honest-to-God,swear-on-my-nephew’s-life fact. I could actually tell you this man’s name, but
of course I won’t.) Do not think that you will avoid this essential part of the
humiliation process by having no coat to give. ‘No coat?’ they will say, all
wide-eyed and scornful. ‘Well! Let’s hope it doesn’t rain.’
    There are a couple of ways of dealing with Step
Two. You can fight fire with fire and respond in kind with some comment on
their
appearance. For example, ‘I love your spots. They’re so …’ cough,
snigger ‘…
youthful
.’ Or you can do something totally different. You
can stare at them, hold their gaze and think the words, ‘I feel boundless compassion for
you.’ Hold the gaze for a couple of seconds longer than is considered mannerly and force
love out from behind your eyes. This will badly rattle them.
    Step Three: The Wait. ‘Elijah will be down
in a moment,’ the receptionist will tell you. But as we all know, Elijah will NOT be down
in a moment. Elijah will be down when it suits him. Elijah is on Twitter, trolling his ex. Or
Elijah is out the back having a cigarette. Or indeed Elijah may be doing nothing and may be keen
to see you. But he cannot! Alas, he cannot! Because rules are rules and The Wait is vital
– it says to the client, ‘Your time is as nothing. You are blessed to be in here and
it’s important that you know it.’
    There are a couple of ways to address The Wait.
You could walk out – I’ve done it once or twice. Or you could decide to draw up a
list of everyone you’ve ever slept with. Take out a pen and notebook that you’ve
brought specially for this purpose and start. Be rigorous. One-night stands, everything.
Don’t forget people you ‘met’ on holiday. Rack your brains good and proper. At
some point Elijah will appear and you will be expected to jump to your feet. My orders to you
are DO NOT! Finish your list. When youare finished – and I want you
to do a thorough job – then and only then may you look up at him. If you feel you could
manage to, I beg you to quirk an eyebrow at Elijah and say, ‘Ready then?’ Practise
this at home if you don’t feel confident you can do it for the first time in the
saloon.
    Step Four: The Gown. Elijah will hold it in a
way that no matter how you try to get into it, it will be wrong. If you try to go in front-ways,
it will be like a coat. If you approach it like a coat it will have to be put on over your head.
Indeed, rumour has reached me that some hairdressers are inventing onesie gowns that you have to
step into, feet first. I’ve discovered that I cannot out-think them in this matter. The
only thing I can suggest is that you say, ‘Okay, Elijah, you win round four.’
    Step Five: The Consultation. Be alert:
this
is the central part of the process.
This is when the real meat of the breaking happens.
This is where you sit in front of the mirror and Elijah will lift a piece of your hair and
contemptuously let it fall again. He will lift another strand and, in disgust, drop it. If
everyone has done their job right, you will be close to tears at this point. Then Elijah will
say, ‘So what happened here?’
    Usually I stammer, ‘How do you mean?’
    And Elijah will say, ‘Well, it’s a
disaster. Did you get it cut like this for charity? Sort of like a