The Power of Yelp

I am giddy with imaginary power . . . caused by the Internet.

I'm sure everyone knows about yelp and if you don't you probably should check it out. There are reviews for everything, plumbers, restaurants, HAIR SALONS! And mostly, I use yelp to read reviews of things I haven't tried. And I'm an informed reviewer of reviews. I know to take things with a grain of salt. Heck, read the reviews of my brother's restaurant "group" sometime. They don't always get "5 stars". The rants are sometimes pretty funny to read. And I know my brother doesn't read them . . . much like I don't read my reviews on "Rate my Teacher". Thus the imaginary part of the power.

I lost my stylist a year ago. Well, that makes it sound like I took her out in the woods without breadcrumbs. My stylist made a career change a year ago. And she was an amazing stylist . . . did my hair and my MOTHER'S hair and we were both happy. If you have met the both of us, you know what a feat that is . . .

So the bar was set very high. And when she retired to become a phlebotomist, I tried to see it as a opportunity to find someone closer to home. 45 minutes is a long trek, even if it is an opportunity to have lunch with my parents. So I tried the "hip" place in Berkley, which is really for men. And after two haircuts that I wasn't happy with, I decided that it was REALLY for men. They do men's hair very well.

So I then searched . . . yelp specifically . . . and found this place in Detroit. It was in my old neighborhood, next to cool shops and next to Motor City Brewing Works, one of my current favs. But I only read the first review and then checked out their website. Owner said she was a former Derby Girl. Cool. My kind of place. So I called them. But I got a machine. (Machine can sometimes be a very bad sign) And I left a message. Melissa or Michelle or a person with an M name, called me back a few hours later. I told her my plight. She asked if my hair was already dyed. Ummmm. Yeah. Has been for years. I'm not walking around with crappy roots. Now, to her credit, Melissa or Michelle or person with an M name did not know that I'm almost forty with gray hair. M name told me that she would have to talk to a stylist and that the stylist would get back to me. "Probably not today . . . but tomorrow." Okay.

I waited a week. I thought about just driving down there and walking in. But then I decided to yelp. I read ALL the reviews. And most of them were not good. Not good at all. Some of them even had more than a few stars but still had "constructive" comments. And they didn't call me back. So I looked at some salons closer to home. Found one in Ferndale that was willing to get me in that day. Today. In a couple of hours. And they don't care that my hair is already dyed. And they didn't have one negative review.

Now granted, no one is happy all the time . . . but no one cared enough to type a negative review.

But I cared enough about the salon not calling me back. So I wrote a review saying that. True, if I was the business owner, I would get it taken down. I can't review their store because I haven't been in it. But it made me feel better. And maybe someone will read it and correct things.

I'm kinda bummed that I'm not going to eat yummy pizza today and I really wanted some brioche from Avalon bakery, but my hair will not look like a brown mushroom after 3 pm today. Hopefully.

And I am giddy with imaginary power.