poop beetle: goodbye hair 8.2005 Three years ago I went for a haircut. I went to "Hair Designs" or some such place located conveniently in the Food Lion shopping center.
Awais was four at the time and able to deal with appointments and waiting, but for a limited amount of time.
When I entered, the woman who was to cut my hair appeared to be about to finish up with an old lady sitting in a wheel chair. The woman's late middle age son (50 or so) was standing behind his mother, all up in the hair cutting center. At first I thought this scene was rambunctious and charming; as the hair dresser and the 50 year old were talking "smack" to each other.
As the wait time drug on, I realized this was not your run of the mill trash talk. Even as the entire Hair Salon looked on at what should have been a friendly, only slightly offensive exchange, the son didn't seem to know when to back off.
Everything he said was loaded, clumsily and stick-ishly with sexual innuendo. The hair dresser retorted with what should have been enough attention to make him feel gratified, but also enough bite to put him in his place- but he wasn't getting it.
At some point, as I waited my turn and Awais was getting more and more wound up with the waiting, I saw the son actually back up the hairdresser- in a room full of people, directly in front of his mother, he pinned the hairdresser up against her mirror, whispering in her ear.
She half-screamed/half laughed. To the mother she cried "Lois! Get your boy off of me!" The old woman said nothing- the people watching laughed uncertainly, not willing to make this not a joke.
It was horrible to watch.
Eventually she got the mother and son out the door and it was my turn. Awais found the "butterfly clips" and was flying/zooming them around the room.
The woman continued being loud and boisterous and flirty- but with a slightly unhinged tone. This is why, when she cut half of the hair on my head and then spun me around to the mirror and said "how's that?" I hastily responded with "just fine, thanks so much".
I decided at that point I didn't have the time or money for haircuts. My hair grew and I bought first the pin up things and later rubber bands.
I tried drug store brand hair dyes and such in an effort to produce "pretty hair". And every time I looked in the mirror, regardless of the hair color, I felt like I was wearing a wig.
I got compliments when I made an effort to braid.
For Halloween last year I found a short orange wig that featured a green stalk (my brother said I looked like I was ready for a rave) - I was going out as "Pumpkin".
I felt more natural in that wig than I did with this grub of hair.
Yesterday - after hitting up no fewer than 3 different hair salons (all closed, times are hard)- I finally busted in to a Fantastic Sam's.
I did not believe I would look more attractive with this hair gone, but I didn't/don't care.
I feel better with less hair. I made a pony tail with the sad remains. It's enough to donate to one of those kids with cancer, wig making places- but only as reinforcement for prettier hair. My hair could "shadow" the better stuff.
I feel better, more myself.
While I was getting my hair cut at Fantastic Sams, a 65 or so looking woman was fussing at the lady who had just cut her hair "NO, my husband does not like shorter hair".
