Today I got my haircut at a new place, and it isn’t the best review-so I think I will leave it nameless. I got the bug to get my haircut on Saturday and when I get my mind set on something like this-I have to get it done. So, today was my lucky day.
When I first arrived I was given paperwork to fill out. This was similar to visiting a new doctor, but it was for a $35 haircut. That seems over the top. The questions asked were: Are you happy with your color? How often do you wash your hair? What type of style would you like: classic, professional, edgy and about 5 other choices. This survey took about 5 minutes to fill out, 5 minutes too long.
After the survey was done, my stylist came to meet me and grabbed a handful of magazines as we walked back to her station. “Welcome to my station” she said as she directed me to a chair identical to all the others in the long row of “stations.” She then asked me a lot of the questions I had just answered on the survey. She asked if I was happy with my color, when I said yes, she pointed out a picture of red hair and commented what a great color that was. Ahhh, dying my hair red is a fairly big step, a complete change. I told her the only thing I don’t like having is a mudflap hair cut.
This is the haircut I get over and over again. I don’t ever want it. I tell every person that ever cuts my hair that I am not interested in having this haircut, but still I end up with it. She really didn’t know what I was talking about. All stylists should know and be able to avoid this haircut. So far, I don’t think I have it-but I won’t know until I wash it on my own.
Next she showed me some magazine pictures that all looked the same to me and all hair longer than mine. Basically they all looked like this:
I would love my hair to look like this. It officially never will. NEVER. My hair is quite a bit shorter and I have about 3 times the amount of hair as they do. I said that my hair isn’t quite like those pictures and she said she could make it look like that. This reminded me of the plaque on the woman’s station who cut my hair when I was growing up:
Time for the shampoo. She took me back and was the one who washed my hair and she got right into asking some questions. She asked me immediately if I had done something fun for mother’s day. For those of you that don’t know, my mom died a year and a half ago fairly suddenly. Obviously, this is deeply upsetting and mother’s day pretty much stinks. Uncomfortable question, I tried to just avoid it by saying no. This wasn’t good enough. She asked me in no less than 5 ways what I had done for mother’s day and why I hadn’t spent it with my mom. The whole time I am wondering how to break this uncomfortable cycle-my consistent honest answers to her questions don’t seem to be cutting it. Finally she asks why I didn’t see my mom (I am not kidding, this was the 6 or 7th question) and I said that she was dead. I admit it was more blunt than it needed to be, but I am not quite sure of the polite way to tell this stylist to get out of my personal life.
Back to the luxurious station for the cut. Things were fairly silent at this point, thanks to me. She cut a few hairs at a time. It took a long time. If you are wondering, my hair looks nothing like LC’s. It is definitely not the best haircut I have ever had, but I tried something new. Next time, I think I’ll go back to my old guy. He is an intimidating hipster, but the dude cuts well.