Off for my yearly tame

I’m not a great one for having my haircut. I have no imagination or interest when it comes to doing hair. So long as it’s not in my way, I don’t care. My dad’s favourite comment when I was younger, and it still applies today is that my hair looks like a bird’s nest and it has probably all sorts of creatures living in it. I think he is jealous as he doesn’t have any hair of his own. The longest I have gone without a haircut is two years. Usually, when I eventually go, the hairdresser’s face falls and I ask her to tame it, rather than do anything as ambitious as style it. I have been going to my current hairdressers for 10 years. They still don’t know me. They still ask me how I look after my hair.
‘I wash it and brush it.’ They wince. This is apparently not good enough. So off I went for my tame. The last time I had it cut was with a pair of blunt scissors, by my colleague, for sports relief. (So about March.) I don’t think this was the answer that the hairdresser was expecting. So I was in the hairdressers for a long time. Which I really hate.
‘Why?’ I hear you cry. Or else you are spending your time more productively. (I dearly hope so)
I hate going to the hairdressers because they feel the need to talk to you AND you can’t escape!
It is so true that they ask me about my holiday, or what I am doing at the weekend. I really want to answer
‘I’m going to muder my family and bury them under the patio.’ but I fear the answer
‘Really? That’s nice.’
Most of the hairdressers only need to look at my scowling face to know that I am not up for conversation though some actually have some really intersting stuff to say. We’ve covered Psychopaths, unusual piercings – very enjoyable. It is the ones that ask you fifty times if you want coffee and ask about weekends/ holidays that drive me nuts. I also hate perfectionist hairdressers. The ones that snip, then check then snip again. It looks even and fine yet they continue for another half an hour. One time I got so irritated I left during the cut.
‘You can’t go. I haven’t finished.’
‘Just watch me.’
Sitting still for two hours really doesn’t work for me. So it was with a heavy heart and unruly hair that I went for my haircut on Saturday. I took a book to ward off questions. It was my worst nightmare. I was offered coffee, more coffee, more coffee. Asked three times about my wekkend. Listened to the woman to the right of me talk about her weekend. Listened to the woman to the left of me talk about her holidays and had a snip/check/snip perfectionist hairdresser. I’m going to leave it a couple of years before I go back!


~ by envisioningutopia on June 10, 2012.

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