My roots are coming in and they are a week overdue from a serious bleaching. I have urgent hair issues. Time to call my stylist. He's a fascinating man named Oren. He's of Russian heritage, raised in Israel. He works on the East side of Manhattan, moonlighting on the Upper West Side on Sundays which is when I usually see him. I have his card so I call the East side location. I can't wait for Sunday--I need him on Saturday. I get the receptionist who books me for a Saturday appointment. Whew. Now we can sleep.
On Saturday, I walked into the East 77th Street branch of Jeffrey Stein. It's much more East side. it's WASP Central. It's much more upscale. It's filled with women who probably don't drag their asses to work every day like I do. OK, I understand the discrepancy. I suck. I get it.
I'm put into a robe and set down in an anonymous chair. Where is my cute Russian? A young man comes out that I don't recognize. He leans over me and says "I'm Oren. Are you a walk in?" Then the real drama begins.
Me: You're not my Oren.
Oren: I'm THE Oren.
Me: THE Oren? There's more than one?
Oren: (defiant) The only Oren.
Me: How can that be? The Oren I see works on the East side but comes to the West side for me to bleach my hair. He's a genius.
Oren: I am the ONLY Oren that works for Mr. Stein.
Me: Aw, bullshit. (I extract card from my purse and show it to him).
Oren:(looks at card thoughtfully) That's MY card
Me: What the...? How can that be?
Oren: Someone is impersonating me. (He has a little hairdresser tizzy fit which is fascinating to watch).
Me: Well, he does very good color. And they refer to him as Oren in the West side salon.
Oren: Well, of course they do. Their standards are so sub par.I am insulted.I should call my lawyer.
There is a long pause. It's awkward, but critical needs prevail.
Me: Well, Oren, I need my roots colored.
Oren: Yes, you do. You look like a hooker.
Not only did he bleach me out like Pamela Anderson, but he shaved a few inches from my hair length. I felt like I lost ten pounds from my head. I guess that makes me an East side girl--cosmetically--from now on.
As for my impersonating Russian-Israeli stylist...Oh, honey, you break my heart. You had the color down like nobody's business. I'll miss you.
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4 comments:
Ok,
So the man said you looked like a hooker and you made use of his services...
So who will you call next time you are not quite up to par in the follicle department Oren or his evil alter ego
I can't believe your Oren was a fake! Doesn't that just piss you off???
At least the real Oren did a fantastic job.
To the Good Doctor: I confess my retelling was slapdash enough not to effectively convey he was joking about the hooker part. I hope. It's a New York-y thing. Meet someone, insult them, but do it with friendly affection.
His evil alter ego was cuter, but the real Oren did a better job on the hair and well, a girl knows which side of her bread she needs buttered.
Oren works fulltime at the Jeff Stein on Columbus between 71-72.. he is indeed the Russian-Isrealite you are talking about and is great with color
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