I hate going to the salon. I like what I get out of the visit - cute hair, cute nails, cute eyebrows, cute skin - but I hate the actual process.
With the Christmas season in full effect and all the
ridiculous awesome events that become necessary in my world, I often take advantage and get myself in some kinda order. I cannot tell you the last time I had a manicure for example but bet your last dollar, the season is a catalyst for my nails being rescued from myself.
|Had I tried to do this myself on that day, it would have been a mess. I just have NO TIME!|
With one party on Friday, I called ahead of time and booked my appointment with my hairdresser.
My hairdresser - nice lady, super talented with a pair of scissors, a jar of hair dye and the like - but so chatty. I don't mind chatty, and salon banter is among the best kind of ole talk any woman can find. But I do not appreciate it when it compromises my time. She chats and when she chats, she stops whatever she is doing to get her chat on. I prepared myself for maybe an extra half hour for the most. How naive of me.
So I get there for my 9am appointment and one woman is on the chair, with a relaxer being applied, and another is waiting. No assistant in sight. Bad mood begins...now. I mean, I had volunteered to come earlier to avoid all this, and was assured that Friday was a slow day and I would be in and out. I had a FULL day ahead and having already not slept well on Thursday, was loathe to spend all morning smelling relaxers and hair colour.
But sit I did, and sit I had to. After applying first relaxer, she hustled me into the chair and started in earnest on my coif, but then lady in the back says the relaxer is burning and she hustles to rescue her and then hustles me out of the chair again to start on relaxer #2. Still no assistant. Bad mood grows.
Still, in trying to avoid being a bitch, I decided to use second relaxer application time to get a simple polish - since a full manicure was going to be impossible with my time now being wasted here. But chattiness is clearly the M.O. in here cause my simple polish became a funeral procession, with nail polish wand in mid-air on many an occasion while nail polish girl made a point with her hands. Multitasking - one can argue one's point and still get the nail polish job done in quick time. Every time she took that brush off my nail, and waved it around while arguing, I cut my eye at her so hard she should have exploded. I mean, WTF!!!
In the meantime, I am glancing over my shoulder to see where relaxer #2 is at and she is almost done. But then, relaxer #1 needs to blow dry and style. Flabber-effin-gasted. But then it works since nail polish wand is still everywhere else but on my finger nails. By this time, I am so vex I could burst.
After hairstyle is completed, I see another woman, who came in a good hour after I did, hustling her rotund ass to the chair....MY chair...trying to get her hair 'did'. Well, it was at this point, I just could not hold it in any longer!
Me: Excuse me. You just got here. You have to wait cause I am next.The cut eye she gave me, could not begin to rival the cut eye I gave her. Hairdresser also took the hint and burnt time making herself a cup of coffee so she could resist any temptation of doing Fat Mama's hair and avoid a cussout. I was now Scary Client.
Her: But you are polishing
Me: I will be done in 5 seconds (cut eye at nail girl, who took the hint) and my 9am appointment is already long overdue so unless your appointment was at 8.30, I am next. (and in my mind, I say "yuh better haul yuh ass back to your seat, lady")
Finally, I was in the chair again, and finally, she was working on me sans interruption until they started talking about the news, specifically the news about the little girl who was found dead in her home in Maloney, and in her deep emotional investment in this conversation, she snipped not the ends, but a wad of hair as in her mind, she had already consulted me on this style she wanted to give me, when in reality there was to be no new style - just a cute colour. I was too vex to react. Paralysis by vexation!!! I found the strength to mutter to myself and to my God - Sweet Jesus - cover this lady in your blood and with your mercy, or in other words, don't let me physically harm this woman! Needless to say, whether I wanted it or not, I was GETTING a new style, and I left that salon, at 1pm, with hair I hated, and with no time to do the 99 other things I needed to do that day. Just enough time to hustle back to my car, grab some toiletries and rush home.
I got home so hungry and so vex, I cleared the house (lol). But ever the optimist, I willed myself to make it right, saying cute accessories and a wicked green smokey eye would rescue me from total catastrophe.
|My awesome necklace against the matching wrap in case I got cold in my |
solid green strapless dress. Gotta love fashion recycling.
And it did. And actually, the hair was very, very pretty. Maybe it was my mega annoyance at the point in time, but I got home and I loved the hair. And I looked hot. I was tired and had a headache from eating nothing at all all day, but the night was a blast, and by the time my head hit the super comfy pillows at the hotel, I was exhausted but with a smile on my face. Still, it was a helluva day!