I sat down in the chair and Natasha placed a tiny little cup with saucer, in my hands and said, "Drink, you look pale." She also said that my hair looked terrible and that I should use better judgement about changing my appointment when six weeks was obviously too long.
That's how it is with my new hairstylist. You get a little nice with the not so nice. She's tough, she's Russian.
We discuss a lot of different topics, she has healthy opinions about everything and feels no problems with sharing them, with me.
Somehow, we got on the subject of psychics and she told me this story.
"My grandmother, a devote, Russian Orthodox, had strong beliefs that anybody that could tell your future was in league with the devil.
When I was a small girl I would visit my Grandmother, in her little village outside of Moscow. We, the little children would play in the fields next to where the Roma's (Gypsies) camped.
How they stayed warm in winter, I do not know because they lived in large tents.
One day an old Gypsy woman came out in the field towards us children. She had a huge, long skirt, lots of shawls wrapped around her.
We were running around playing and she stood and watched us all.
Then she came towards me.
I was scared. I thought she would snatch me and shove me under her skirt and steal me away. But, I was frozen on the spot. She reached out to me with her old bony arm and said, "Let me tell you your future, child."
I knew my Grandmother would be furious with me if she found out I had listened to the Gypsy. I told her no no, go away.
She looked at me sadly and then reached into her pocket, of her skirt and pulled out a pair of scissors. She placed them in my hand and turned away.
I had been holding my breath thinking she was going to stab me.
I wasn't going to tell my Grandmother about the scissors but my cousins told her and she did a lot of yelling at me.
I forgot all about this event for years.
When I was ready to go to University and I had straight A's the Soviet Union collapsed. To go to University meant very expensive bribes and my family could not afford these.
I told my father it was ok because really I loved to play with hair and that I wanted to go to Beauty School. He said it was a waste of brains. I went anyway.
I cut the hair of my first husband and we married and because he was a diplomat I was able to come to America. I was also able to bring my family.
I cut the hair of my second husband now.
I have family, my boys, my daughter, a loving husband, a good job and finally I remember the story of the Gypsy lady and her scissors and my future. Was all good after all."