I worked at the salon for two weeks. I answered the phone. I made appointments. I wrote down names and numbers. The job was simple. The job was boring. But I did it. I had no other choice.
The clients were mostly women. They came for haircuts. They came for color. They came for manicures. They came for massages. The shop was busy. The phone rang all day. I answered it. I said the same words every time.
"Anna's Salon. How can I help you?"
I said these words many times each day. I said them in my normal voice. My voice was deep. My voice was firm. I spoke clearly. I spoke directly. I thought this was good. I thought this was professional.
The clients did not think so. Many clients paused. Many clients asked, "Is this the salon?" Many clients said, "I thought I called the wrong number." One client hung up. She called back. She asked for Anna. She said a man answered the phone. She thought she called a different place.
I told Anna about this. She listened. She did not say anything. She nodded. She walked away.
That night, after dinner, Anna spoke to me.
"Liam," she said. "We need to talk about the phone."
I looked at her. "What about it?" I asked.
"Your voice," she said. "Your voice is a problem."
"How is my voice a problem?" I asked. "I speak clearly. I speak loudly. I am polite."
"Your voice is too male," she said. "The clients do not expect a man. They expect a woman. When they hear a man, they get confused. They think they called the wrong number."
"I cannot change my voice," I said. "This is my voice. I have had this voice my whole life."
"You can change it," she said. "You can speak softer. You can speak slower. You can speak in a higher pitch. It is not difficult."
"I do not want to change my voice," I said. "I am a man. I sound like a man. That is normal."
"Normal for a man," she said. "But you are not working a man's job. You are working at a beauty salon. The clients expect a woman. If you sound like a man, they get confused. They get uncomfortable. They may not come back."
I did not say anything. I did not want to change my voice. I felt like she was asking me to be someone else. I felt like she was asking me to be less of a man.
"Please try it," she said. "Just try it for one day. If it does not work, we will think of something else."
I thought about it. I did not want to do it. But I also wanted to keep my job. I wanted to help Anna. I did not want to cause problems.
"Okay," I said. "I will try."
"Thank you," she said. "I will help you."
We went to the living room. We sat down on the couch. Anna looked at me. She smiled.
"Now," she said. "Say hello."
"Hello," I said.
"Too loud," she said. "Softer."
"Hello," I said. I spoke quieter.
"Still too loud," she said. "Softer. Slower. Take a breath. Let the words come out gentle."
I took a breath. I let the words come out gentle. "Hello," I said. My voice was quiet. My voice was slow. My voice was almost a whisper.
"That is better," she said. "Say it again."
"Hello," I said.
"Good," she said. "Now say, 'Anna's Salon. How can I help you?'"
I said the words. I said them in the same quiet voice. I said them slow and gentle.
"That is it," she said. "That is perfect. Keep that tone. Keep that speed. Do not rush. Do not speak loud. Just speak gentle."
I practiced for an hour. I said the same words over and over. Anna listened. She corrected me. She made me do it again. She told me when I got it right.
By the end of the hour, my throat hurt. My voice felt strange. I was tired. But I had learned the new voice.
The next day, I went to work. I sat at the reception desk. The phone rang. I answered it.
"Anna's Salon. How can I help you?" I said the words in my new voice. I spoke quiet. I spoke slow. I spoke gentle.
The client on the phone paused. Then she said, "I need an appointment for a haircut."
I wrote down her name. I wrote down her phone number. I wrote down the time. I hung up. I was surprised. She did not question me. She did not pause. She just made the appointment.
I answered more calls. I used the same voice. The clients did not question me. They did not say they had the wrong number. They made appointments. They asked questions. They were normal.
I worked the whole day. I spoke in the new voice the whole day. By the end of the day, my throat was tired. My head was tired. But the phone calls went well.
Anna came to check on me. "How is it going?" she asked.
"Good," I said. "The clients are not confused anymore."
"I told you," she said. "The new voice works. You are doing a good job."
I nodded. I did not say anything. I felt strange. I felt like I was pretending. I felt like I was not myself.
But I kept the new voice. I used it all the time. I used it at work. I used it at home. I used it with Anna. I used it with the neighbors. I spoke quiet. I spoke slow. I spoke gentle.
One day, Anna said, "You sound so nice now. You sound so calm. You sound so pleasant."
I did not say anything. I did not know what to say. I was not calm. I was not pleasant. I was just trying to keep my job.
I continued to work at the salon. I answered the phone. I made appointments. I spoke in my new voice. The clients liked me. They said I was polite. They said I was helpful. They said I was easy to talk to.
The other workers liked me too. They said I was nice. They said I was friendly. They said I fit in well.
I did not fit in. I was a man in a woman's world. I was a bank manager in a beauty salon. I was not myself. I was someone else. I was someone Anna wanted me to be.
But I kept doing it. I had no other choice. I needed the money. I needed to do something. I needed to feel useful.
The weeks passed. I got used to the new voice. I got used to the new job. I got used to the new routine. I did not think about the old me. I did not think about the bank. I did not think about my career. I just focused on the day.
I got used to the other workers. I got used to the clients. I got used to the women and their conversations. They talked about hair. They talked about makeup. They talked about clothes. They talked about men. I listened. I did not talk. I just listened.
One day, a client came in. She was an older woman. She had gray hair. She walked to the desk. She looked at me. She smiled.
"You are new here," she said.
"Yes," I said. "I am new."
"You are the receptionist," she said.
"Yes," I said. "I am."
"You have a nice voice," she said. "So quiet and gentle. So pleasant to listen to."
"Thank you," I said.
She walked away. She went to her appointment. I sat at the desk. I thought about what she said. She said I had a nice voice. She said I was pleasant. She did not say I sounded like a man. She did not say I was strange. She just said I was nice.
I did not know how to feel. I was happy she complimented me. But I was also confused. I was a man. I should not be happy about someone complimenting my voice. I should be happy about someone complimenting my strength. My intelligence. My power.
But I was not strong. I was not powerful. I was just a receptionist. I was just a man with a quiet voice.
I went home that night. Anna was already home. She made dinner. We ate together. She asked about my day.
"It was fine," I said. "One client said I had a nice voice."
"That is good," she said. "Your voice is nice. I told you. You speak so gentle now. So pleasant."
I nodded. I ate my dinner. I did not say anything.
After dinner, Anna said, "I have an idea. I want to talk to you about it."
"Okay," I said.
"You are doing a good job at the salon," she said. "The clients like you. The workers like you. You are helpful. You are polite. You are pleasant."
"Thank you," I said.
"But the receptionist is coming back next week," she said. "You will not have that job anymore."
I looked at her. I felt a cold feeling in my chest. I was going to lose my job. I was going to be home again. I was going to be useless again.
"However," she said. "I have another idea."
"What is it?" I asked.
"You can work on weekends," she said. "The regular receptionist does not work on weekends. You can work Saturdays and Sundays. You can answer the phone. You can help the workers. You can do the same things you do now. Just on weekends."
"Okay," I said. "I can do that."
"And there is another thing," she said. "I will pay you fifteen dollars an hour. That is more than you make now. The weekend is the busiest time. I need good help on weekends."
"Okay," I said. "I will do it."
"Good," she said. "That is settled."
She went to the kitchen. She cleaned the dishes. I sat at the table. I thought about my situation. I had a job. I had a purpose. But it was not a man's job. It was not a career. It was just a part-time job at a beauty salon. I was not a manager. I was not a leader. I was just a voice on the phone.
But I accepted it. I accepted the job. I accepted the voice. I accepted the new me. I did not fight it. I just let it happen. It was easier that way. It was easier to just go along with things.