Neither Hair Nor There
by
Catherine (Kit) Kelly
http://www.thecharter.ca/index.cfm?iid=1383&sid=9913
My hairdresser listened carefully, as she always does, and I requested a shampoo, cut, style, dye and foil streaks; auburn in colour.
I so enjoyed the shampoo, the massage, the dye and even the streaking process. Those foils are something else. Little pieces of metal sticking off from your head, presenting a space-like being that has just landed in confusion and disarray.
Really, I was half asleep most of the time and when I was completed, I heard, 'OK, you're done. You have the streaks you asked for’. I looked in the mirror and it all looked lovely to me.
When I arrived home, fully awake, I stood in the sun and I looked in the mirror. Shrieking, I ran out of the room, ran back, looked again and I couldn't believe my eyes. I was orange… orange streaks. Streaks on a lovely cut that seemed to flame up from my scalp in wave after wave of incinerator orange, screaming, 'Get me outta hair, Get me outta hair!'
I ran to the telephone, called my hairdresser and I began in a hoarse voice, 'Another trip, they gotta be covered!’ Slam! (Her husband had answered and he thought I was a 'press 9, you just won a trip' call.)
Finally, I got through and I was so graciously invited back to be re-covered that I relaxed and we all had a grand laugh.
Since I know full well that my hairdresser did exactly as I had requested, I guess I learned a lesson, 'Be careful what you ask for'.
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