It’s only hair?
Do. Not. Get. Your. Haircut. At. Changes in Oldtown Scottsdale.
She must have a vendatta out on me.
She must want my husband.
She must not have trained very long.
She must have used dulled and rusty sushi knives while I wasn’t looking.
She must have been on crack.
She cut the tip of her pinky off while working on the woman before me. She showed me the tip in a napkin at her hair station. Why didn’t I turn and walk out then?
She was 20 years old. Her hair was not cute. But she was sweet so I let her do her thing.
She told me I looked punk-rock but classy. Is that possible?
She offered me licorice tea when my teeth began to grit while she cut away. She never brought me any. I hate her.
I am now missing 10 inches of hair from the back of me. But only 4 inches in front.
I have 17 strands of hair that make up bangs. She began to cut them and then remembered the ONE THING I said was: I DON’T DO BANGS. So she stopped. After cutting 17 strands.
Billy told me it looked cute. When he lies the right upper corner of his mouth twitches and his eyes smile. Lip twitched. Eyes smiled.
There is a strange layer that lays between my crown and the middle of head but only in the back.
The right side flips up. The left side curls back.
She cut off all my highlights so now I am totally BROWN.
My hair is very short. Very short for someone who always has very long hair.
There was a reason I had not gotton my hair cut in a year. I’m scared of scissors.
She did spend 20 minutes picking out a very serious dreadlock. I gave her a tip for that.
I look like the girl from Bernice Bobs Her Hair
Bottom line: Luckily I have a good looking neck.
Put up a photo so we can see!
(I went to a student for a haircut last year and she didn’t even look at what she was doing half the time!)
Comment by Tamsin — March 25, 2006 @ 7:37 pm