Rushing from the office today to make it to my five p.m. hair appointment, I arrived right on time. And waited. And waited.
I was fuming while trying to read "Undead and Uneasy" by MaryJanice Davidson. I hated to be kept waiting. However, if I'd known what was in store for me in the back of the salon, I would've run. Far, far away!
My normal sylist is on a medical leave but another woman took over my appointment. Since I really only wanted a trim and some highlights I wasn't worrying too much.
Three hours later I was still sitting in that black spinning chair. My head was covered in foil and the stylist was heading to the backroom to mix up a THIRD bowl of color for my massive amount of hair. Twenty minutes under the dryer, ten under the faucet and another thirty getting a blow out and I was done.
Some people, even professionally trained ones, still have a problem dealing with long, thick hair. This woman, Sherry, was really nice. But as she stood behind me and pulled, tugged, yanked and hacked at my hair with a comb, I wished nothing more than to burn her repeatedly with a high-intensity curling iron.
Four hours after I had originally stepped in to the salon, I left, $95 lighter, blonder and more than a little sore.
So what has this taught us?
Well, me - nothing. I was just looking for a good ending for this entry. Tee hee.
WE LEAVE FOR HAWAII NEXT WEEK!!!