because that wasnt awkward at all...

*

“So got anything else planned for today?”

J- “No…Just this”

“Quiet day huh?”

J- “Mmmm…”

“Hmmmmmm…”

Not the most enthralling snippet of conversation I’ll admit, but one that happens every 6 months with me, as I am having my hair doused in a few degrees too hot water, rinsing strange unheard of product out of my hair. Yes, today, I crossed the border and entered the unknown land of scissors, shampoos and squeaky floors, otherwise known as The Hairdressers.


With my just above shoulder length cut, I, apparently need to book in appointments every 4/5 weeks, so with my last ordeal 6 months ago, I was expecting looks of horror and shock from the hairdressers directed to my untameable, split end filled barnet. Safe to say, I got them.

On entering the land of limited conversation salon, I was taken to have my mane washed. Cue previous dialogue in paragraph 1.*

With my wash finished and towel turban wrapped fashionably around my hair, I was placed in front of a large mirror and the cutting process started. My awkward half smile didn’t seem to phase the Unfortunate Hairdresser assigned to me, and as I recall the script went something like this:

U.H- “This the first time you’ve been here?” (Just for clarification- the first time I had been at that specific salon- I have a tendency not to inflict my unkempt hair on one salon for more than one appointment)

J- “Yes. Yes it is.”

Great comeback, J…

*awkward silence*

*One of The Wanted’s songs starts on the radio*

U.H- “I like this song. Love The Wanted”

J- *Nods in fake agreement*

“Yeahh, they’ve done well for themselves.”

What the? What am I saying? Who am I- their manager?

U.H- *awkward silence*

“Hmm right.”

*awkward silence*

 “So when was the last time you had it cut? A while back I'm guessing?”

J- “Oh goshh, about 3 months ago I think”

Her pursed lips and narrow eyes said she didn’t quite agree with this, but I got conscious of the half year gap , so I decided to shrink the figure a bit, thought she wouldn’t notice…

They then tried to flog me products claiming all sorts of idealised guff, which I feigned interest in until the price tag came into the spectrum. That was the end of that.

I know I'm making this all sound like complete hellishness and all, but it’s not a dread, going to the hairdressers, more of a chore. I have previously tried to cut my hair myself, and, even with the strong opinion that it was capable, after I managed to cut it so unevenly the right and left sides of my face looked like two completely different people, I gave up. The hair gets a wash every 2 days, so don’t get the impression of a gangly, greasy youth, with slimy hair- the salon is simply not somewhere I make a beeline for every 4 weeks as per recommended.