Getting my hair cut is always an ordeal.
I’m the most low-maintenance when it comes to what’s on top of my head. Hell, my routine consists of either doing nothing and letting the mane run wild and wavy or running a straightener through it for five minutes.
But the idea that someone can snip and make me look freakish without any do-overs gets me a little crazy (oddlyenough, that’s the name of the song playing during the cut). Today I put my stupid issues aside and made an improptu visit to the Hair Cuttery for a trim. What’s great about this chain is three things, and three things only: they’re cheap, the employees seem to know how to hold scissors and you can show up without an appointment up until something like 10 pm. That’s what I did.
Without a special request for a stylist they have you sit for 5 minutes and then round someone up rodeo style. While flipping through Cosmo, I heard the description of me provided to my chosen cutter so she could locate me.
“Yeah, you have the little girl over there with the tatas.”
Wow, mama Levitz would sure be proud of that one. Once Jackie led me inside it was down to business. No small talk. Not that I wanted any. In fact I shoved a cherry lollipop in my mouth two seconds before so that I’d have free time to think while the hair massacre was occurring.
I had a strict budget and told Jackie I only wanted a wash and cut. Still, like a Girl Scout trying to unload her Thin Mints, my stylists tried to sell me on a deep conditioning treatment too.
“It’s good for fixing damage like what you have on your ends,” she said matter of factly.
Ouch. Way to kindly point out my flaws. Maybe Joan Rivers could use her as an apprentice.
“But aren’t you cutting off the ends, so it’ll be OK,” I shot back.
Silenced. Two points for me.
Jackie looked for me lots of instruction. All I know is when it comes to my trims I want enoug hair to put it back into a ponytail and I don’t want little layery pieces all over my eyes. I actually state both expectations repeatedly.
Once the 20 minutes were up and my hair was properly dried, I looked into the round mirror. Besides the overly coiffed shape that stylists always seem to do to me, I could face the reflection.
Phew!
