Get Lost.
I was not completely satisfied with the hairdresser I'd been going to for the last couple of years. So, I started looking at some local friends' hairdos, and asking who they saw. So, a girl in my MOPS group has great hair, lives here in town, & I figured she probably wasn't the unreasonable type to spend too much money.
So, I got the salon name, the hairdresser's name, and called asap to make an appointment.
Since I don't get to get pampered in that manner, once every 4-6 months, I always plan it around a date or wedding or some other occasion where I'd like to look decent.
So, I scheduled it before E's brother's wedding & started counting the days to having straight hair for a night.
Two months later, when I arrange to leave the kids & go get 'perty', I drive up to the salon to see it dark inside & a note on the door. My heart sank. The shop had been closed.
Do I listen to reason?....do I drive away & accept that perhaps it was best for me?
No. I get out of my car to read the paper, and I see that "Barb" (name NOT changed) is now at Infinity, which was described to be a block away.
When I pulled into the parking lot, and saw it sitting RIGHT NEXT to a tattoo parlor, I should've just kept going. But I was desperate. I needed some glam. So I parked & went inside. Even despite my detour, I was still exactly on time. So I walked in, explained that I actually had an appointment at the "closed" place, and could Barb fit me in?
Miraculously, Barb had kept my appointment. But didn't emerge from the perm she was doing, until 5:20. My hatred for tardiness just makes me a better teacher, so I don't excuse it. Especially when I am a patron.
So she finally brings me back. I had two pictures.... not a lot shorter than my current hairstyle, but more layers, as I was hoping to have the option of fixing my hair like Farah Fawcett (I know, I know). But TWO PICTURES. So how hard could it be? Really, it just required of her, that she cut more layers, then fix it right.
Some background on her. She looked to be in her 60s. She looked good for her age. And looked like she worked out, ate well. But still, lady, you're in your 60s. And if my mom ever dresses like this, I will barf. And the whole time I talked to her, and showed her things about my hair, she only looked at her OWN reflection. It was bizarre. And it was love. (her love for herself).
So, she winds me through the smokey smelling "salon" to a couple of sinks in the back cozies up RIGHT NEXT to a nail station. PS She never put a cape on my to wash my hair. And no towel under my neck, etc. She spent the whole time she was shampooing, chatting with the nail tech. She wasn't even looking at me, and was spraying the side of my face. And, at one point she said, "Oops, that was the third time I shampooed you." So clearly, I was not the object of her focus.
Next (& after seeing how ditzy she was I should've retracted my appointment for the wax), she waxes my brows (which later showed to be COMPLETELY UNEVEN). Then led me back to her station for the haircut (by this time it was 6, remember, my appointment was 5). And as soon as she start combing out my hair, her next appointment came in. She acknowledged them, just as she had acknowledged EVERY SINGLE person who walked through the door. She even turned her direction away from me (when I was mid-sentence) to talk to a person who came in.
Next, she begins scissorhands....she cuts...and cuts...and even though I told her less than 1/2" (I somehow have decently healthy hair), I see strands of 3-4" falling into the floor. I told her that altho I wanted to be glam for the day, the next 90 days I'd be wearing a ponytail, so please make sure that the shortest layer will stay back in a ponytail (yet today, 2.5 wks later, I have a strand tucked behind my ear).
Then, she's done cutting & gets out a blow dryer. She's talking to other people, looking at herself, and half hazardly blowing & using her FINGERS to pull on my hair...when I reminded her that I'd need the hair to be smooth for the style. I told her that I use a large paddle brush & a chi iron to smooth my hair. She said, "Using your fingers is just as good." But I don't need my cosmo cert to know that makes separeted & curly hair.
So, after she'd pulled out 1/2 my hair w/ her fingers, and greeted everyone who entered, she looked at my reflection & said, "So, what do you think?" I couldn't believe it. It was frizzy & she hadn't even tried to fix it. And the whole back was still wet (which meant spiral curls when it would dry, on its own).
I said, "I'm sure I'll like it once it's been fixed."
So then she takes out a curling iron & he ho hems around about hating that particular iron. And it starts to stink, she comments on the smell, then takes a section of my hair & "attempts" to curl it. She acted like she was either paralyzed, or had never used an iron before. It was awful. Then she leaned over & peered at the picture & made a comment at how it looked like my hair.
Remember the Friends episode where Monica's hair is frizzy?...well, imagine that toned down a bit, with a curling iron curl on the side.
It looked STUPID.
And I could see it on her face. She knew the next appointment was getting impatient (because by this time it was 6:30), and that she'd have to wrap it up with me EVEN THOUGH SHE WASN'T EVEN CLOSE TO GETTING MY HAIR TO LOOK LIKE THE PHOTOS.
So she says, "Well, I'd fix it for you, but then I'd have to charge you for a hairdo.... and that's a lot."
I just wanted out of there. Otherwise, I would've argued with her that I wanted one, and that I hated my hair, etc.
When I got home, I realized that she'd charged me for a blow dry (an extra $3), even though my hair was sopping wet in the back.
Lessons learned: Don't get your hair cut next to a tattoo parlor. If you show up for your appointment, and the place is closed, don't persue it, Just accept God's advice & go home.
Can you believe someone put this on the curb for trash pick-up?!
m the reception...
This Charlie's Angels pose was long overdue.... after 20-something years of friendship, why hadn't we thought of it sooner? Too bad my egg-shaped dress makes me look pregnant... NO!, I'm not pregnant (I'd have some "serious 'splainin to do to Jeff." Altho -- look at him! -- I'd love to have another one of his babies.
This is called 'God's Hands', someone sent this one to me.
