Knight 1

Rescue at the Hair Salon

by Ruth Tindugan

My hair was being blown-dried when a young man, probably in his mid-thirties came in, and the hairdresser who just finished sweeping the floor motioned for him to come to the station next to my chair. He sat down, and I glanced at him with a small nod as I got up, thanked my hairdresser after trimming my straight hair from shoulder length to just below the chin, then walked over to the counter to pay.

I was a long-time customer at Lulu’s hair salon since it was in my neighborhood and the price for a haircut was equivalent to a three Starbucks grande latte that I don’t drink.
I handed my visa. She swiped the card, frowned, and shook her head.

“This reader is not working properly,” she muttered. “Please wait.” Lulu swiped the card three more times. I waited for five minutes frowning with annoyance.

I noticed the man looked at the mirror pleased with his crewcut, stood up, took his wallet from his back pocket, walked toward the cashier, and waited behind me.

“This is not working. Sorry. Will get a new one next week,” Lulu said. “Do you have cash or check?”

“No, that’s why I’m using my credit card.” I said.

“How about you go home, get cash or check, come back and pay, “ she said.

“What? You want me to go home and come back pay you with cash? This is bad business!” I grumbled.

I was peeved at the thought of returning. What a waste of my time due to an inefficient credit card reader! I stomped to leave, pushing the glass door hard that the string of small chimes attached on its frame jarred like loud wooden rattles rather than tinkle.

I walked quickly toward my car irritated as if there was sand in my socks.

Suddenly I heard heavy footsteps behind me and a thick voice called out. “Wait!”

I turned around. It was the man at the hair salon.

“You don’t have to come back,” he said, smiling. “I paid for your haircut.”

I froze. “You, what? But I was going to pay for it!” I protested. It didn’t occur to me that I could walk away, don’t come back, and get away with a “free” haircut..

“I know. But it’s not your fault. You don’t have to come back.” he said, walking away.

“What’s your name?” I called.

“Jeff,” he answered without looking back. “God bless!”

I stood still, overwhelmed by this unexpected encounter. Then I realized that perhaps Lulu trusted me enough that I would return with the payment, or risk the loss if I didn’t.
My earlier annoyance over my inconvenience made me feel foolish realizing that unbeknownst to me I was being rescued from it.

Actually, not me.

Lulu, was the “damsel in distress” forfeiting a payment from a costumer, due to a malfunctioning equipment. Jeff, the modern knight used his wallet and she got rescued.

He gifted me with a free haircut.