Hair
Well. Day two of the famous vacation. So far so good. It is only half over so I am going to reserve judgement. We shall see.
Hey...that didn't go too badly at all. No one called too early, no one came over unexpectedly. No one asked me to do anything. It was great. Now all I have to do is obsess about getting my hair cut tomorrow. I am kidding of course. Unlike others I don't view a hair cut as a traumatic experience. It's hair, it grows, you cut it, it grows back.
I remember going with my sister once while she had her hair done.
My sister is the kind of person who wouldn't say shit if she had a mouth full of it. She told the girl what she wanted and the hairdresser proceeded to hack away. I was watching and remember thinking "that is not what she asked for" but my sister remained silent. I figured if it wasn't what she wanted she would have said something, but then I remembered the mouth full of shit thing. As the hairdresser droned on with her "hair dresser" small talk (who was sleeping with who's husband, who's hair was falling out, who was having a baby) I saw a tear fall down my sisters face.
Personally I would have pulled a horror show. But that's just me, I do that. (one of the many reasons people don't like to shop with me) And I would have pulled one for her but at that point in the hair cut it would have made it worse. Better a bad hair cut than half a bad hair cut.
When it was over my sister paid her and we left. She cried all the way home. I never understood that. It's just hair. But what was with that hairdresser? To stand there and watch my sister cry and be completely oblivious to the fact that she might be the reason for my sisters distress. Maybe that was why my sister became a hairdresser. REVENGE!
She has definitely given me a few bad hair days.
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