Well it’s Monday. And it’s snowing. And I have no heat. So it seems like a great day to share this story and bring some levity to life.
I’m not sure what came over me when I went to
the closest and cheapest a new hair salon over the weekend. Perhaps it was the shock from being in sandals and a sundress one day to a winter coat and scarf the next. Perhaps it was errand-weariness from a day with 1,000 stops. Or perhaps it was just me being me…uncensored.
It was probably that.
For whatever reason, I was filter-less. Like, completely filter-less. It was a direct flight from thought to speech. Not in a charming way. More in a way that made me regret every time I decided to respond to a question. Which was frequently.
So here you are, friends. A little advice on what not to say out loud to strangers. Not that any of you need this advice; I’m sure you’re all capable of having perfectly normal conversations with your hairdresser. Or, you know, with humans in general.
Clearly, I am not.
Things You Wish You Hadn’t Said To Your New Hairdresser, Or To Anyone, Ever:
Hairdresser: Let’s get started! Do you want a wash?
Me: Um…yes. Definitely yes. My hair is a hott mess right now. Kind of like my life.
Hairdresser: So, do you have any fun plans for tonight?
Me: Well, I have sweatpants and leftover takeout waiting for me at home, so yes!
Hairdresser: Do you want me to put your purse over by the coat rack?
Me: Only if you want a mild strength and conditioning workout. I’m kind of a hoarder.
Hairdresser: So…when was the last time you had a haircut…?
Me: Um. August? Yes, August. The last month that started with an A. Which actually speaks more to my personal hygiene habits than to the busyness of my schedule.
Hairdresser: Ok! What would you like to do with this?
Me: If by “this” you mean the mop atop my head…I’d just like it not to look like this anymore, please. So do whatever you need to do!
It’s good that this experience ended by me taking out a $20 that had been folded into a small square and covered in masking tape…as it had been stuck to the inside of my running shoes as a surprise by my mom over Easter (thanks, Mom!). I’m sure that the full minute it took me to untape the cash I was about to pay with was just enough time for the hairdresser to jot down my name, age, and general physical description so that I’m put on a black list and never allowed back in the salon again.
Oh my word…oh my word.
Luckily it was all worthwhile since I skyped with my parents later that night, sporting the new ‘do, and my mom asked me when I was going to schedule that haircut I’ve been needing for awhile.
Apparently this was an effective outing on all fronts.