Cock-A-Doodle-'Do
I know I've told you before, but I'll say it again. I love to get my hair done. There's just something about having someone else play with my hair that puts me into a hypnotic state. It's soooo relaxing, and I love the feeling of fresh, soft, just done-by-someone-else hair. It's also something that I don't do often for 2 reasons:
1) I'm lazy and don't like having to maintain my hair.
2) It can get pretty pricey.
It may be because I fell into one of those hypnotic states that the following disaster occurred.
I guess my first clue of impending doom should have been when my stylist decided to get her nails done. At the same time that I showed up for my appointment. Now, I'm a compassionate person, I didn't think it was a big deal, so I shrugged it off, and waited patiently for her to finish. My next sign on the road to "bad hair-dom" was when she asked the stylist next to her what colors were used on my hair previously, because she just couldn't "tell in this light". See where I'm going with this?
Right about now, I bet you're asking yourself, "Why the crap didn't she just go to the person who normally does her hair?" I'll tell you why. Because she couldn't get me in until August! That's why! On with the chop job.
Then she goes to mix the color, and 45 minutes later, (yep, you read that right. 45 minutes!!) she comes back, and proceeds to put it on my hair. Luckily, I was the one who chose the color, so no worries there. It did take her over 2 hours to apply it to my head, though. I'll be the first to admit that I have (or had, rather) a ton of hair. But, sheesh! You would think my head was the size of Stewie's head for all the time it took!
When she was done, and my hair was ready to be rinsed, I began to relax. Just when I thought I was in the clear, she started cutting. Now, in her defense, I was the one who asked her to thin my hair. Can you believe I would do such a thing with someone who is already on shaky ground? Me neither. When she pulled out a razor that looked like it was purchased at the dollar store, I must have looked really panicked, because she said, "Oh, don't worry. This is brand new. I've never used it before." Yep. Totally worked at calming me down. She pulled my hair straight up and I heard my hair rip. It sounded uncomfortably close to my scalp. And not just in one place, but all over my head!! I may have blacked out, because I don't remember much after she said, "Look at all that hair I just removed!". After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I stood, smiled and said a bit loudly and over-enthusiastically to my mother-in-law, "LOOK AT ALL THAT HAIR SHE JUST REMOVED!", paid, and walked out the door.
Below is just a sample of what my hair looks like. Keep in mind, this is only in one spot.
What more needs to be said, other than this: The most flattering comments about your hair come the day before you're scheduled to have it cut. The worst comments are written all over the person's face who sees you immediately afterward.
And right now, I'm really glad I can't see your face.
1) I'm lazy and don't like having to maintain my hair.
2) It can get pretty pricey.
It may be because I fell into one of those hypnotic states that the following disaster occurred.
I guess my first clue of impending doom should have been when my stylist decided to get her nails done. At the same time that I showed up for my appointment. Now, I'm a compassionate person, I didn't think it was a big deal, so I shrugged it off, and waited patiently for her to finish. My next sign on the road to "bad hair-dom" was when she asked the stylist next to her what colors were used on my hair previously, because she just couldn't "tell in this light". See where I'm going with this?
Right about now, I bet you're asking yourself, "Why the crap didn't she just go to the person who normally does her hair?" I'll tell you why. Because she couldn't get me in until August! That's why! On with the chop job.
Then she goes to mix the color, and 45 minutes later, (yep, you read that right. 45 minutes!!) she comes back, and proceeds to put it on my hair. Luckily, I was the one who chose the color, so no worries there. It did take her over 2 hours to apply it to my head, though. I'll be the first to admit that I have (or had, rather) a ton of hair. But, sheesh! You would think my head was the size of Stewie's head for all the time it took!
When she was done, and my hair was ready to be rinsed, I began to relax. Just when I thought I was in the clear, she started cutting. Now, in her defense, I was the one who asked her to thin my hair. Can you believe I would do such a thing with someone who is already on shaky ground? Me neither. When she pulled out a razor that looked like it was purchased at the dollar store, I must have looked really panicked, because she said, "Oh, don't worry. This is brand new. I've never used it before." Yep. Totally worked at calming me down. She pulled my hair straight up and I heard my hair rip. It sounded uncomfortably close to my scalp. And not just in one place, but all over my head!! I may have blacked out, because I don't remember much after she said, "Look at all that hair I just removed!". After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I stood, smiled and said a bit loudly and over-enthusiastically to my mother-in-law, "LOOK AT ALL THAT HAIR SHE JUST REMOVED!", paid, and walked out the door.Below is just a sample of what my hair looks like. Keep in mind, this is only in one spot.
What more needs to be said, other than this: The most flattering comments about your hair come the day before you're scheduled to have it cut. The worst comments are written all over the person's face who sees you immediately afterward.
And right now, I'm really glad I can't see your face.
Comments