When the going gets hairy, the hairy turn pro

Today I have been to the hairdresser’s. I had not been in twenty years. It felt like going to the dentist, but slightly worse. I really don’t know how people manage to put themselves through such a mindboggling experience on a regular basis.

First, a teenager in leopard print leggings, a mini skirt and half a head of pink hair set about the washing part. Thanks to the ill-adjusted basin, I still can’t move my neck. Next on, it’s the token camp hairdresser with very short bleached hair and a large studded belt. He quizzes me why I haven’t been to the hairdresser’s for so long, and is puzzled as to how I managed to cut around the back of my head blindly. With a pair of nailscissors and no mirror. I explained I wasn’t too worried about the results, as I couldn’t see the back of my head, anyway. That he did not understand.

I proceeded to produce some pictures on my phone (off the computer), to give him an idea of what kind of haircut I wanted. You can’t have that! Came the prompt reply. Your fringe is too short, can’t do that! Well, durr. I realise that. The rest of the picture looked doable though. By this point I was getting panicked, as he chopped around like a maniac. After ten minutes or so, he announced he was now finished. I had a bowlhaircut. Definitely not what I was after. Erm, I meant a bit shorter than that, to be honest. Only to be told in no uncertain terms that any shorter would look ‘boyish’. For goodness sake! I know that. So I asked him to take more hair off. He didn’t like the idea and suggested I came back next week as he was running out of time. What? I thought this ‘and he left the salon with half a haircut’ thing only happened in really bad films! When I insisted I was not prepared to walk around with a bowl haircut for a week, he got angry and was now cutting in a willful and frantic fashion.

Once he had finished, the result can only be described as looking like the man from the Right on Target hairdye advert! Thanks a bunch, asshole! Dashed home and got the nailscissors out. Which I should have done in the first place. It still looks shite. Some things are better not left to the professionals. Ah well, at least I won’t have to go back for another twenty years now.