Daily Prompt: Green-Eyed Monster (A Letter to My Hairdresser)

I’m making my hairdresser rich, but I’m not jealous.

In response to today’s Daily PromptWrite an anonymous letter to someone you’re jealous of.

To my Hairdresser,

It is with great sadness that I write to cancel our next appointment. I have no excuse. I simply cannot afford you. I know our relationship is new, but already I sense a great lopsidedness to it. At our last session, I feigned interest while you considered aloud what questions you should ask applicants for a nanny position.

A nanny? Really?!  I wanted to shout at you. Who can afford a nanny?

I pretended to commiserate, even as you told me the hourly rate you planned to pay your nanny – a wage only slightly less than what I make. If you can afford to pay someone that kind of money, you must be rolling in the dough. At the mercy of your undeniable artistic ability, I held my tongue. Anyone who can restyle my thick, unruly mess of hair into something sleek and sexy deserves millions of dollars. I wish I could pay you to come live with me and make me pretty every day. Instead, it sounds like you could pay me to wipe your children’s noses.

I admit, I was jealous when last I sat in your chair. Petite and stylish, you flaunted eye makeup that perfectly matched the not-quite-teal feather adornment in your dark hair, so striking against your alabaster skin. Sneaking glances in the mirror while you snipped at my hair, I saw myself as too tall and broad-shouldered. My complexion was too ruddy. You continued your soliloquy about an expensive fence you planned to have installed in your yard, and the nanny, of course.

I realize you did not intend to make me feel so meager. Maybe I should be flattered that you seem to think I, too, earn the big bucks. That you don’t realize how many hours I have to work at my job to pay for less than sixty minutes of your services should come as a compliment. How much of that money does the salon keep, and how much is yours? I wondered as I listened to you. It doesn’t matter. No matter how I do the math, I know that you make more money than I do. With all my book learning and hard work, I covet something you have – a trade, a real skill. You have gifted hands and they bring you a profitable income. I should be happy for you.

Jealousy is an ugly thing, and I really should work on overcoming it. But just as unattractive is your running commentary on the cost of landscaping and your wish to find a handyman desperate to make a buck. Oh, and those fine, dark hairs on your upper lip. Until we meet again, I can work on my jealousy issues, and you can bleach your mustache.