So there I was sat in front of a mirror at my regular salon with a gown around my shoulders awaiting my monthly haircut. This is something in which I so extremely look forward to, I LOVE having my hair cut, styled, anything that involves in it being stroked. I have decided that I want to come back as a cat as this is mostly what their lives are about, that and lying in the sun– anyways I digress. I was settling in for what was to be an hour of sheer bliss and relaxation but looking around I couldn’t see my regular hairdresser Jessie.
A girl I didn’t recognise appeared behind me in the mirror. She was very tall with a very high pony tail that made her seem taller. She had massive boobs spilling out of a low cut top and she was wearing large, thick framed glasses that were perched right on the end of her nose, I’m not even exaggerating. There was about a cm between the end of her nose and the bridge of the glasses. I found myself wondering how they didn’t fall of her face. She had already begun messing with my hair before she even acknowledged that it was attached to me.
She had a loud and nasally voice that bellowed above my head with such force that I felt her breath on my scalp. She said that Jessie was in Bali and she would be cutting my hair, before I responded she began to suggest all kinds of styles, pulling my hair this way and that. Not wanting anything she suggested I asked politely if I could have a trim, some of the thickness taken out of it and for it to be washed and dried. She took this a dry trim. I politely corrected her.
She roared for another girl to wash my hair and I was approached by a small girl who had no business being in a customer facing role. She looked like she hated her life and everything in it, including my hair. I was led to the basin and she began washing, this bit I did enjoy until she missed my hair completely and hit my forehead with the shower and though it was uncomfortable, I tried to ignore the stray water running down my forehead into my eyes.
I was sat back in my chair and I discreetly tried to remove the mascara smudges from underneath my eyes while the knots in my hair were combed out with more force than I’m sure was required. The loud, obtuse girl appeared back in the mirror behind me and started cutting.
I was beginning to relax when she came out with this pearler “Did you know that your hair is like 2 inches longer at the back than it is everywhere else?” I replied with “No, I didn’t” obviously confused as to how I would know having not being able to see myself from behind. She then went on to ask me where and when I got my hair cut last as it seemed it had been a while. I politely reminded her that it was in fact Jessie her colleague who had last cut my hair about 4 weeks ago. Quickly to cover her back I imagine, she advised me then that I may not having been sitting straight in my chair- I’m sorry, what? At this point I was less than impressed – my hour of self-indulgence had turned into an attack and I was annoyed that I felt I had to defend myself from this loud pair of boobs.
After another few minutes of cutting she chimed up with “Do you know your hair is patchy?” As a side note, I had attempted the “bronde” look which had resulted in thick uneven highlights of blonde through my brown hair and I had since dyed it a dark chocolate colour but the blonde was flashing through in parts. When I answered “yes” to her question she began to laugh. My face was a picture! Not seeming to notice she went on to ask me why I hadn’t fixed it. I explained that I wasn’t precious about my hair being all one colour. To which she smirked and I wanted to shout “You know I have eyes and I’m sat in front of a MIRROR right?” She suggested I change my shampoo as the cheap stuff was stripping my hair. Go to hell boobs.
She continued on with the cut, blow dry and insults. My fringe had more hair cut into it because it was “a bit stringy” (yet another gem she bestowed upon me) but when I was presented with the finished result it wasn’t all that bad. She compared my cut to Alexa Chung which coincidentally was exactly the look I was going for – she ended this with “it’s a pity you don’t have her stylist” – wtf? Seriously what is this girl’s deal?
As I was mentally punching her repeatedly in the face after removing her stupid glasses and stamping on them, she removed my gown and made her way to the counter to total my bill. I followed and as I was fishing around in my bag for my wallet she boomed “that will be $95, cash or card?” I stopped dead – I had only ever paid $50! Was it extra for insults? I told her as much (not the insults part) and she started to break down my bill, raising her voice even louder in order to intimidate me, I believe. “It’s $50 for your cut and $45 for the blow dry”. I repeated that I had only ever paid $50 for the exact same treatment.
With an eye roll and a sigh she looked back through my appointments and confirmed that my last 2 payments were $50 which she then followed with “Jessie must have done you a favour but she shouldn’t have done”. Again she repeated $95 and placed the card terminal in front me.
Reluctantly I tapped on my debit card; I’d had enough and just wanted out of there. But to my absolute, utter smug delight, karma had come back around so fast that she must have broken all kinds of speed limits because rude boobs had only applied the charge of $45.00! Hahaha – yesssssa!
The transaction went through and I promptly declined my copy of the receipt as she didn’t even notice! Me and my wonky, patchy hair hot tailed it out of there as fast as my legs could carry but not before she called out after me in her horrible voice “See you next time” I shouted back “I bet you $50 you don’t!” Ok so that last part isn’t true but I totally should have!
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