All Change at The Grand Hotel

As I stood behind my desk at The Grand, I could see the early morning sunlight filter through the expansive windows, casting playful shadows across the polished reception area. It was just another Monday for me, Beth Carter, the senior receptionist. Dutifully on display to the guests, in the hotel uniform. A blue skirt and blazer, worn over a crisp white blouse. But on this day, I chose to wear the collar wide, with a blue polka dot scarf adding a subtle nod to individual flair, just as the owner had praised over the years.

I enhanced my unique appearance by my penchant for stylish hairdos while always maintaining a firm commitment to professionalism. My remarkably long chestnut locks, flowing elegantly down my back, crowned my signature look. Always elegantly styled, whether worn loose or more formal, it was never impractical or unpolished in its appearance. On this day, it cascaded down my back and past my waist, with just a blue velvet hairband holding it gracefully back from my face.

At 7am, the aroma of coffee and pastries wafted through from the dining room and the lobby began to fill with guests eager for breakfast. Jasmine, my junior colleague, was dutifully assisting them. Before she approached the first guest, I had watched her as she artfully twirled her own long hair – nearly as long as mine – into a youthful, but decidedly messy, half up and half down style.

Jasmine’s hairstyle may have complemented her exuberance, but I considered it unprofessional and more suited to a dancefloor than the dining room of The Grand. Furthermore, her blouse was carelessly, or perhaps deliberately, not buttoned up sufficiently high for my taste. Jasmine had talent but lacked discipline in her presentation. I shook my head with exasperation and made a mental to have a quiet word with her when we were less busy.

An hour later, Sam Bates, our cheerful resident barber, ambled through the busy reception area from the direction of the management offices. For the last ten years we had always exchanged pleasantries in the morning, but on this occasion his head was down, and a frown painted his brow.

‘Morning Sam,’ I called out to his departing form. ‘Isn’t it a lovely day?’

‘Um, is it?’ he replied enigmatically, without turning around. ‘Er, yes, Beth … yes, I suppose it is.’

‘Is everything alright, Sam?’ I enquired, worry creasing my forehead.

‘Oh, yes, just fine …’ he trailed off, casting a furtive glance towards the General Manager’s office before scurrying off to his barbershop domain tucked away behind the reception area.

As the owner of The Grand had decided to take a step back from the day-to-day running of the hotel, he had recently appointed a General Manager to take over the role. Ms Pinch was already known for her sharp demeanour and her strict policies. I instinctively tensed, worried for Sam’s future and that of his quaint, but undeniably old-fashioned, barbershop. I would check on Sam later, just to make sure he was okay.

As I contemplated my friend’s situation, Ms Pinch’s voice sliced through the ambient chatter, her heels clicking on the tiles as she marched from her office. ‘Miss Carter! Please come with me,’ she barked.

‘Good morning, Ms Pinch,’ I replied, upset by her brusqueness and her lack of concern for leaving reception unattended. ‘Firstly, I need to -‘

‘No, Miss Carter! Firstly, you need to come with me,’ Ms Pinch ordered, dismissing my protest, exuding an air of authority that left no room for argument. ‘Now!’

I summoned Jasmine from the dining room to take over the desk, and I reluctantly followed Ms Pinch’s clicking heels across the reception area. Once I had caught up, I was surprised to myself in Sam’s barbershop where, although still with a look of concern clouding his features, he looked ready to start his day.

Sam’s gaze flitted between me and Ms Pinch, while I looked at him questioningly, hoping to find answers. A strange heaviness filled the air. Ms Pinch stood attentively with arms crossed, her short black hair impeccably styled, and her tailored dark suit immaculately cut. She resembled a general surveying her troops.

‘Sit, Miss Carter,’ she commanded, and I felt a chill run down my spine. ‘Mr Bates will remove that ridiculously long and unprofessional hair and give you a style in keeping with my vision for The Grand.’

‘Excuse me?’ I shrilled, staring at her in disbelief. ‘You can’t -’

‘Oh, but I can, Miss Carter,’ she said, a smirk twisting her lips.

‘You don’t have the authority!’ I asserted.

‘Oh, but I do, Miss Carter,’ she confirmed, her smirk increasing.

Panic surged through me. I looked to Sam, who visibly flinched and looked away. ‘Sam, you are not going to do that, are you?’ I implored, my voice trembling, but he only shifted his weight uncomfortably.

‘Beth, I’m sorry…’ he whispered, head down.

‘But you always compliment me on my hair’s length … and condition … and all the various styles I wear,’ I found myself whining.

‘Beth, I don’t have a … a choice,’ he protested, his eyes darting accusingly towards Ms Pinch.

‘Choice? What do you mean?’ My indignance felt like a fire raging within. ‘I have worked here for over ten years! We have been friends for all that time.’

‘Enough!’ Ms Pinch interrupted, her voice cutting through my complaints. ‘If you wish to maintain your slovenly and unprofessional appearance then we will require you to do so elsewhere. However, if you prefer to keep your position at The Grand, then you will comply with my request. Are you really prepared to risk your livelihood over such a trivial matter?’

My heart sank. I felt cornered, the weight of my years of loyalty crumbling in the face of this unyielding authority. It was obvious that in Sam’s earlier meeting with Ms Pinch, she had forced him to comply with her demands or lose his position.

I reluctantly settled into Sam’s chair, dread coiling around my insides as he draped the large white cape over me. Pumping up the chair, leaving me feeling vulnerable, he turned me away from the mirror.

‘Remember what we discussed Mr Bates,’ the General Manager smirked, receiving a reluctant nod from Sam in acknowledgement.

‘I’m sorry, Beth,’ he murmured again as he gently removed my blue hairband and cast it to one side.

As I contemplated what style I might choose that would satisfy Ms Pinch’s exacting standards, I felt the cold steel of Sam’s scissors gliding along my neck. The blades tugged hungrily at my hair as they noisily crunched through it. Still facing the grinning Ms Pinch, I was unable to see the damage that Sam was causing. However, I felt my heavy locks sliding down over my shoulders and tumbling down my back. With an unnatural swishing sound, over three feet of my bountiful tresses swirled around behind me as they collected on the floor.

‘No!’ I cried. Sam’s hands had been gentle but shaky, leaving me in shock, as he mutilated my hair. ‘Wait!’ I wailed, panic eclipsing reason, but it was too late. As I peered down at the floor, locks of my hair collected around the chair, a stark and chilling reminder of my loss.

The buzzing sound of hairclippers drowned further protests as Sam began to clip away the remnants of my unique identity. Although not wishing to sound melodramatic, he was eliminating the essence of what had made me who I was. However, the worst part was not just the loss of my hair, but the feeling of betrayal, of powerlessness, as Ms Pinch watched on with satisfaction.

If someone had said that one day my hair would succumb to the hairclippers, I would have laughed at the very suggestion. But there I was, with an ever-growing pile of hair clippings tumbling down the white cape, gathering in my lap, before making their final journey to the white-tiled floor. While I could feel a modest weight of hair remaining on my crown, Sam was undoubtedly eroding every trace of hair from my nape and temples. Still facing away from the mirror – staring into Ms Pinch’s gloating eyes or averting my gaze to the floor – I was dreading the moment when I would see my enforced brutal transformation for the first time.

‘Perfect, Mr Bates!’ Ms Pinch joyously exclaimed the moment Sam silenced the hairclippers, unfolding her arms and clapping her hands together with delight. ‘And, Miss Carter, you will return here every Monday morning for Mr Bates to maintain your smart appearance.’

I hauled my gaze up from the floor, aiming an accusatory glance towards Sam, from which he guiltily recoiled.

Turning my attention to Ms Pinch, I whimpered, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. ‘But why …?’

‘The wind of change, Miss Carter,’ she smirked. ‘Change for the greater good of The Grand.’

Ms Pinch paused her show of appreciation, approaching me to inspect my hair more closely – a style I was yet to see – and nodding her approval as she circled me. Relishing her victory, without warning, she snatched the cheerful scarf from around my neck, stripping me of the last remnant of my individuality. She then fastened all the buttons on my blouse, tight up to the neck, a final act forcing me into submission. ‘Much better,’ she declared, as she spun me around to face the mirror.

I stared in disbelief at the unrecognisable person in the reflection. A glossy cap of hair perched neatly on my head, leaving my ears exposed. I tentatively fingered my right temple and felt only bare skin, a feeling that continued back to my nape. Stifling a rare expletive, I nearly choked at the brutal enforced change in my appearance.

I wanted to argue with the management and to complain to the owner. Did my loyalty over the past ten years mean nothing, I contemplated mournfully? Attempting to maintain to my pride, I silently rose on shaking legs from Sam’s chair, immediately darting to the door of the barbershop to make my escape.

Behind me, I heard Sam mumbling platitudes. ‘Sorry, Beth. I had to …’ he murmured, but I ignored him.

‘Do not forget, Miss Carter. Back here next Monday morning for a trim,’ Ms Pinch reminded me cheerily, ‘although we will be seeing each other again before then. We have a great deal to discuss regarding other necessary changes.’

My humiliation arising from Ms Pinch undermining my established position really stung to the core. It felt as if she had robbed me, not just of my hair, but also my dignity. I rushed the last few steps as I departed the barbershop, hoping to find a brief period of solace alone, before resuming my duties.

As I stepped into the lobby, I immediately felt the stunned gazes of my colleagues on me. In particular, Jasmine stood slack-jawed behind the reception desk. Initially a hand shot up to cover her gaping mouth before it continued upwards as if to reassure her that her own long hair remained in place, albeit in its messy updo.

‘Beth, your lovely hair … what on earth happened?’ Her voice was a mix of shock and concern as I approached the desk, causing colleagues and guests to turn in my direction. I had lost my opportunity to find time alone to come to terms with had occurred.

Following Jasmine’s exclamation, I paused, catching my reflection in the mirror along the wall behind the desk. The drastic bowlcut hairstyle I now wore was a far cry from my previous elegance, and the tightly buttoned-up blouse only exaggerated the severity of my appearance.

Standing before me, alongside my reflection, was Jasmine still displaying her anxiety at my transformation, her head cocked to one side questioningly. Wayward tendrils of hair danced around her puzzled features, while loose wavy locks plumed from her messy bun and tumbled down behind her. One errant strand was intent on finding a way down her unbuttoned cleavage.

As I stood there, I felt an unexpected shift in my thoughts. It manifested itself as a nagging doubt concerning my approach to my responsibilities at The Grand.  I wondered if I had become too complacent in my role, and whether my colleagues considered me too relaxed when performing my duties. I thought back to what Ms Pinch had said earlier about The Grand needing change for the greater good. Perhaps this was my cue to embrace change, to push myself beyond the comfortable.

‘Jasmine!’ I snapped, making her jump, surprising even myself. ‘Come with me.’

‘Er, yes, Beth …’ she stuttered, still eyeing my hair with undisguised worry. ‘But first we … er, I -’

‘No, Jasmine … now!’ I demanded. ‘And you will address me as Ms Carter from now on,’ I added pointedly.

‘Yes, okay … but, er, Ms Carter your hair -’

‘I am so pleased you like it, Jasmine,’ deliberately misinterpreting her expression of worry as a statement of admiration. ‘Sam Bates is waiting in his quaint barbershop to give you a neat and professional haircut this is more suited to The Grand … perhaps even shorter than mine.’

‘Wait, what?’ The look on Jasmine’s face was priceless, a mix of bewilderment and fear, as she sidled up to me.

‘Slovenliness will not be tolerated going forward,’ I insisted, constraining her ample cleavage by buttoning her blouse tightly up to her neck, finding myself enjoying my more robust authority. ‘You must prepare yourself for the new order at The Grand,’ I added, imagining Ms Pinch and I working closely together for the greater good of the hotel.

Our colleagues had scampered back to their duties, their expressions suggesting they were fearful of change. Noting their relaxed attitude to the length and style of their hair, and their casual approach to the wearing of their uniforms, they had every reason to fear the new order. It appeared I would be having a busy day … and so would Sam.

‘Come along, Jasmine,’ I urged, sighing as I attempted to disguise wayward strands of her messy long hair. Just a temporary expedient as I eagerly imagined Jasmine sitting in Sam’s chair to receive a more permanent solution. ‘We must not keep Mr Bates waiting.’

As I cast a glance towards the management offices, I saw Ms Pinch standing in her doorway, a genuine smile lighting up her features for the first time that morning. She nodded appreciatively at my actions, and she even rewarded me with a complicit wink.

In that moment, I realised I had transformed into a different person. Not only had my outer appearance changed in an instant, but my inner resolve to lead a unified team with strength and determination had only just begun.

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