By Briyah Paley

Last week was my brother Gabe’s bar mitzvah, a momentous occasion in his life. Our family from Israel, Australia and Boston came to celebrate and I wanted to look good. So a few days earlier, my sister, my cousin and I were walking around midtown in Manhattan, where I’m from, and we were approached by some attractive young men. “Can we tell you about a special promotion at La Dolce Vita salon?” one of them asked. Promotions are usually a nice word for scam. I’m no fool. But I’d actually been to La Dolce Vita salon before, and it hadn’t been so bad. You pay $60 plus a one time $15 service fee and they promise you a haircut, a manicure or pedicure, a mini facial, an eyebrow wax and a massage. I remembered it being a little shady when I went, but it was cheap and it seemed like a good idea. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Friday, the day before my brother’s big day, the three of us along with another cousin, Tamar, went to the salon. Tamar is from Israel and she’s only 12 years old, but she looks a lot older. As soon as we sat down, I could feel the trouble creeping upon us. The hairdresser they gave me was a weird-looking man who didn’t seem to know how he should cut his own hair, let alone mine. He had bunched it up in a raggedy ponytail. I hadn’t sat down for more than a second when he told me my highlights were growing out and I needed it to be redone for $180. Yeah, OK … no. He looked angry. As I was having my hair washed, I looked up in horror. My 12-year-old cousin had foil in her hair! They were giving her highlights?! I jumped up and began to argue with her hair “stylist.” He asked me why I had anything to do with the decision and went back to what he was doing. He had no idea how young she was. “I’m paying for it!” I screamed. I convinced the salon not to charge me for it, but he had already put the highlights in, and I was now going to have to explain them to my uncle. Meanwhile my other cousin’s haircut was finished, and she wasn’t happy either. She decided to get a massage while I tried to deal with them putting highlights in my sister’s hair as well. Yes, that’s right, she too had been brainwashed by the evil salon employees. Why did she let them do this? She didn’t. They told her she needed some “color” and she didn’t know what that meant so she meekly nodded and that was enough for them. She was also told that she had a few gray hairs, which she doesn’t. She’s 17. I had enough. I decided to calm down with a manicure. The woman didn’t speak any English, except when I tried to tell her she hadn’t cut my cuticles right, and she said, “This is only a promotion.” I couldn’t believe it. The employees were drinking rum in the back and some people had to stand while their hair was cut. This was the lowest I had seen in a long time. We ended up paying $300 for four haircuts, a short massage and the worst manicure I have ever had in my life. We were ripped off big time. My hair looked good in the end, but the feeling I had when I left wasn’t worth it at all. Later on, my sister and cousin put up signs around the city warning people not to fall for the promotion. All I can say is, it’s payback time.