Vampira de Cama

If you’re ever in another person’s hotel room, do not-for any reason, sit on the bed….

When I first started out styling hair for weddings I would occasionally work for other wedding companies. They would do the advertising, find the clients, and book the jobs, making it easy for me to just show up and play hair.

I was booked by a company to style hair for a woman who was having her wedding at the New York Public Library (clearly a Sex in the City fan, and it was around the time that the movie came out too). She was flying up from Florida for the grandiose occasion, so we didn’t have a chance to meet first or have a hair trial, which is always a little bit of extra pressure. Also on the docket for the day was her mother and 5 additional people. 

I showed up to the beautiful midtown high rise hotel room early in the morning, introduced myself and began to set up my things. The bride, Clara, was from South Florida and her family was originally from Cuba. She was surrounded by a swarm of her “tias”, who were all excited to be in New York for the first time. Being from South Florida myself we chatted about all of the Florida things, like Publix subs (something most Floridian defectors miss most), before getting down to business. 

The thing about NYC hotel rooms – even the nice ones, is that they are generally ridiculously small. This room (though probably $600+/night) was what I’d call a double wide; if you stretched your arms out, it was two “human airplanes” in width. 

Once I was set up in my own little corner I was told that my first person of the day was on her way up from another room and should be there soon. I stood around for a minute but was perpetually in the way of everyone in the room, so I decided to sit on the edge of the unmade bed to save some space while I waited. 

The bride and her Tias were chatting excitedly about the big day, and everyone seemed to be in good spirits. I overheard them discussing all of the people who flew in for the wedding, and how special it was that her mother had made it, despite the fact that she had the beginnings of Alzheimer’s disease.

Just then, I felt the bed move from under me. The rumpled hotel comforter pulled back, and a woman sprung up out of the bed like a rigged Halloween prop. She had piercing ice blue eyes that were staring through me. Her jet black hair was sticking out in every direction, as she started screaming at me in Spanish with the most wild look in her eye.

I jumped off of the bed and flew to the other side of the room (albeit not a far commute). This mystery bed vampire continued her screaming, as I tried desperately to remember any Spanish from my South Florida school days (which included learning parts of the body in Spanish on an E.T. doll…. he didn’t even have that many parts so I never understood why the Spanish teacher used him as the model. I digress…..)

The bride rushed over to try and calm the crazy demon I had awakened, when I realized…this was her mother. I had sat on the mother of the bride, and now she was in a disoriented fit, cursing at everything in Spanish and attempting to leave the hotel room. The tias tried calming her down, but apparently she thought she knew where she was going and I was “after her” so she needed to get away. She somehow managed to find a cigarette and started smoking in the hotel room hallway, which is a big no-no in NYC. 

Three of the aunts tried to wrangle her while one stayed behind to make sure the bride, who was now tearing up, was okay. 

And there I stood, traumatized and horribly guilty for accidentally starting this whole episode. The tia assured me that an episode was bound to have happened anyway, but no doubt the surprise of having a stranger sit on you in a new setting was sure to set almost anyone into a brief panic, let alone a psychotic episode.

And the question still remained….who’s first for hair??

One of the relatives sat in my chair in my now corner or shame, ready to receive her sad updo. Of course with weddings timing is always an important factor, so I had to make up for the lost time that was dedicated to smushing one of the guests of honor.

I finished my first client and moved down my list, which was of course a room full of Cuban girls with thick, gorgeous hair that took no less than 50 bobby pins each. 

I was almost finished styling the bride, when I heard the key card click in the hotel door and in walked the tias and mommy dearest. They had been chasing her around 42nd street a bit before finally convincing her it was safe to come back in. She had settled down, and even agreed to let me do her hair (though no one gave ME a much needed pep talk…)

Vampire mom sat down in my chair, smiling now, trying to explain slowly in Spanish how she wanted her hair (and I just felt confused, being that E.T. didn’t have hair and was of no help and the Florida public school system failed me yet again……).

Luckily, through gestures and slight translation from the bride, I masterfully made her a bun, pulling all of her stringy black hair off of her forehead, which really brought out her widow’s peak, for the full Dracula effect. She went from a bed creature to a happy friendly vampire, as she now smiled and complimented me, saying things like “que lindo” (which luckily I knew,, no thanks again to E.T.) and even kissing me on the cheek before leaving for the big event! (I did guard my neck closely as she came in for the cheek…). 

I tried to wait for everyone to scurry out of the room before packing up my things, as space was clearly an issue. Once everyone left, I gathered my stuff and looked over to the crumpled bedding one last time, making a mental note to never sit on an unmade hotel room bed ever again. You never know what lies beneath.