Tomorrow is a big day for me. I am going to a hair salon after avoiding them for the past 22 months. And I am petrified. Yeah, yeah, I know it will grow back and all that jazz but you weren't permanently scarred 22 months ago like I was.
When I first moved here my hair was long which is how I like it yet it was unhealthy. I had plenty of time on my hands since I didn't have a job yet so I decided to go get an inch cut off. An inch. That's it. When I sat down and told her what I wanted and she smiled and told me that it was a simple request, I was thinking what an easy customer I was. She told me she preferred to cut curly hair while dry which I had never heard of but I said ok...I mean she's a professional, right? But then she began brushing my curls out. Until I had a big, poofy fro going on. And then proceeded to cut almost 5 inches off.
I was devastated. But what am I going to do in the middle of the haircut? Make her stop? It was a little late for that. So I just sat there cursing her silently to myself. So then I thought, maybe she had some ultimate plan that would *cross my fingers* turn out cute. Maybe she had some styling trick up her sleeve that would make me forget all those nasty names swirling through my head.
Except she didn't style it. She took the cape/smock (whatever that thing is called) from around my shoulders and smiled at me. I was done. My hair still a poofball...a much shorter poofball. What are you supposed to really say when you hate a haircut? I wanted to scream, "OMG! I'm hideous!!" but instead I paid her and walked to my car and drove home. And I cried. Yes, I knew it would grow back but it was at that point I realized how far from home I was. It was also at that point I decided I would never trust anyone in KY again.
Until now. It's time to face my fear. Because my hair needs some serious work and it just can't wait any longer. So wish me luck.