A Haircut Adventure

What is it with me and haircuts? First I had this issue with MasterCuts in the Coral Ridge Mall. By the way, the corporate office never responded to my email. Bastards. So yesterday, I went to this new mall in the Des Moines area. I needed a haircut. It was getting a little shaggy and besides, I know I want to let it grow long enough for my role as a hostage in the upcoming Dreamwell show Someone Who'll Watch Over Me. So if I cut it short now, and just let it grow, it ought to look right for the show in late January. The only place to get one's hair cut at this new mall is MasterCuts. I don't really want to give them my business, but I also don't want to wait til next weekend. So I figure what the heck, I'll give 'em another chance. Besides, it wasn't the same MasterCuts.

I swear I will never go to MasterCuts again.

First of all the woman who cut my hair had no social skills. She couldn't carry a conversation to save her life. Now, I can ignore that because it's the haircut that matters, right? Let me list her mistakes. First, she sprayed water in my face not once, but twice. And I even said "Ahh!" the first time and she said, "Sorry about that." Didn't stop her from doing it again. Use your hand to block the person's face when spraying, you nitwit! Second she almost cut my ear. She was using one of those shaver things and as she's bringing it up, the corner of it gets snagged on my ear. I feel a slight tug. I didn't have time to worry because she realized her mistake and pulled it away from my ear. I did flash back to my childhood when my mother snipped off a piece of my earlobe during a haircut. Post-traumatic stress flashback. It's a burden I live with. So anyway she's cutting and cutting and at one point she asks me if I wanted my bangs shorter than what she'd done. I put on my glasses so I could see them. It was hard to tell what the heck she was talking about since half of my bangs were really long and half were really short. I said, "Um, shorter than this, of course," indicating the long bangs. She seemed put out.

These three things by themselves, I could have forgiven, especially since there was no blood loss involved in the ear mishap. However, the final strike is not so easily forgiven. I told her I wanted my hair short. She asked me, "Short so you can spike it up or short so it lays down?" I replied, "Short so it lays down." I am not 16. I don't spike my hair. So she's all done and I put on my glasses again and see... spiky hair. I said, "Wow, that's pretty spiky." She said, "It'll lay down once you wash it." Not sure exactly what she's getting at there. Is she suggesting that my hair is so dirty that it's standing on end all by itself? My guess is that's what hairdressers are instructed to tell you when they screw up. "It'll look better when you wash it."

So after all this, you might be wondering if I tipped her. I wasn't going to. Let me make it clear, I had no intention of tipping this woman. But as I was removing my credit card from my wallet, Sharon and the girls showed up. And the hairdresser said, "Oh what lovely girls. And they both have such beautiful eyes!"

So that was worth a buck fifty.