Mudcat
yap
- Since
- Jan 27, 2010
- Messages
- 32,603
- Score
- 427
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I have very simple hair (or so I would have thought) and I just go to the cheapie First Choice Haircutters which is very close by. Been going there ever since I lived here which is over 10 years now.
Anyway today, I end up with this girl who I'd never seen before. Didn't give it much thought; I always just go with whoever summons me to their chair; I generally figure my hair is too simple to screw up.
Long story short: half an hour later I am questioning for eighth time why there are these weird jagged lines in my haircut which are in different places on both sides of my head. Usually my hair is basically smooth. There are no layers or anything. But now I've got jagged layers. And she's very puzzled and ready to go at my head with the clippers some more and I'm finally saying, "No, don't do any more please."
My intention was to go directly somewhere else for another haircut and see if some kind of salvage was possible.
Anyway, although I was not loudly freaking out or anything - not my nature - the haircutter at the next station had obviously been clueing in on the trainwreck-in-progress. We have known each other for a long time and she came to my rescue.
I was relocated from one haircut chair to the next. It was a first for me. My haircuts usually take, what, 15 minutes? I was in the damn place today for close to an hour. That first girl would probably still be trying various corrections if I hadn't finally stopped her.
Anyway, Janet to the rescue. Hair looks good now. Very short - no way around that - but good.
Anyway today, I end up with this girl who I'd never seen before. Didn't give it much thought; I always just go with whoever summons me to their chair; I generally figure my hair is too simple to screw up.
Long story short: half an hour later I am questioning for eighth time why there are these weird jagged lines in my haircut which are in different places on both sides of my head. Usually my hair is basically smooth. There are no layers or anything. But now I've got jagged layers. And she's very puzzled and ready to go at my head with the clippers some more and I'm finally saying, "No, don't do any more please."
My intention was to go directly somewhere else for another haircut and see if some kind of salvage was possible.
Anyway, although I was not loudly freaking out or anything - not my nature - the haircutter at the next station had obviously been clueing in on the trainwreck-in-progress. We have known each other for a long time and she came to my rescue.
I was relocated from one haircut chair to the next. It was a first for me. My haircuts usually take, what, 15 minutes? I was in the damn place today for close to an hour. That first girl would probably still be trying various corrections if I hadn't finally stopped her.
Anyway, Janet to the rescue. Hair looks good now. Very short - no way around that - but good.