Bad Hair Days
I have never cared much about my hair. I always opt to spend the extra 15 minutes in bed rather then waste time trying to do something with my hair. It finally occurred to me that I needed to find a really good hair stylist, so at least I'd have a chance of decent hair with my "wake-up, run my hands through my hair and go" attitude. I asked my friends with the best hair who did their hair and was surprised to find that they all got their hair cut by the same person---I made an appointment immediately!
It has been over a year now, and every time I go in for a hair cut, the lady says the same thing: "Who has been cutting your hair!" It's like a tape recorder---I tell her that she is the only one who cuts my hair---and then I remind her about the special pair of scissors I keep in my bathroom drawer to take care of any naturally curly hair that's being disagreeable...
When she is finished cutting my hair, I point to a group of hair that is curling the wrong way, "Hey, could you cut that off?" I ask her. She starts to explain why a straightening iron would come in handy in these kind of situations, but I interrupt her, "It will save me the hassle of having to dig my fingernail clippers out of my glove compartment and cutting it off in my car," I tell her. She sighs in exasperation and cuts it off.
"You are nothing like my other clients." She tells me (again). Her other clients have standing monthly appointments, where I come in only 2 or 3 times a year...As she takes my black cape off, she finally asks me, "Why do you come to me?" (She realizes I have to pass a Dollar Cuts and a Super Cuts to get here). "Because," I say with my biggest smile, "you are the best!" And she smiles, even she can't argue with that.
1 comment:
Remember when mom used to cut our hair? Oh the memories...and the tears!
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