Just a trim please

Today I went to a Hair Styling Salon to do a vinyl job for them. She needs her window signs done differently and her menu prices changed. Did you know they had menu prices? But the thing is I have never liked being in a Salon.
At this one the young and old girls all looked the same. I must have missed the last hair craze. Most of them literally had Mohawks. In the back, on the sides, down the middle or just anywhere. I saw very very black ( that’s ok), but then there was dark purple stripes, patches of red, green, orange, yellow and white in places I know have never been found in a natural women.
I went for years and years to a salon in Roy, and the women who cut my hair did a good job, but I hated being there. I just never felt comfortable. Maybe it’s just me, but I didn't like the feeling I had there. They are very “catty” and loved to talk about everyone who walked in. My gal had a booth next to her sister and they were both a little older. But they were just like the young ones. They had a comment about everyone and knew something about most. They would comment on their clothes, their hair, their kids, just anything, I have always hated when normal things and people are made fun of just for entertainment. But there were other things I didn’t like either. It seemed like it’s always a fashion show, and let’s see who has the best tan lines. I can’t explain exactly, but I never liked going.
Now I go to a young gal’s home. It’s just me and her and the 3 kids, her toy filled basement with one chair, her running washing machine/ laundry room with the sink, sometimes we even get to watch Barney. If I need a perm we take a nursing brake. But for some reason I am comfortable there, no one is in competition there, it’s real, it’s more like home.
I guess I need my comfort zone. We are put in uncomfortable situations often enough that if I can avoid one, then I will. I am grateful others have talents I do not and can share them with me.