Don't argue with a woman holding scissors

My hair had started to reach the stage where it was closely resembling a mop. It was hanging limply from my head in a most unattractive fashion and no matter what I did with the rest of my face I couldn't seem to detract from this.

Now I used to go to a regular hair salon where you made an appointment in advance with a stylist of your choice but when your hair is looking like such a sad sack there really isn't time to wait until someone is available to cut it. This is one of the main reasons my hair gets cut in the only salon that provides a walk in service. So when I have the overwhelming urge to tackle it myself with a scissors I can just hot foot it to the hairdressers and allow a professional to take over before disaster strikes. Anyone who has seen the childhood photo of me with a triangle missing from my fringe knows what I am capable of.

I know better than to judge a hairdresser by her hair. Even if her hair is really terrible, like washed out pink with pale blue ends, unsurprisingly it did nothing for her skin tone. Despite my misgivings about her hair she did a good job on mine. Actually listening to me and making helpful suggestions as to what might suit my face shape. Now this might sound like a fairly standard skill for a hairdresser to have but really it isn't and I have had many the hair disaster to show for it.

You know that bit where they produce the mirror to show you the end result and what you're thinking is oh god, what have you done to my hair but you're smiling that forced smile saying oh wow, it looks great because common sense dictates you don't argue with a woman holding scissors.

I remember once going to a fancier hairdressers because aol employees got a discount and I was pretty excited about the fantastic hair I was going to have after it because this place was a fair bit pricier than my usual place. I didn't exactly get what I paid for. What I was treated to, for a fair chunk of my hard earned paycheck, was a hair stylist with a little too much attitude who got pissy with me because I refused to let her cut my hair shorter on one side of my face. now I know it would have been more fun for her to cut my hair like that but to be fair I would have been the one walking around looking like a twat once she was done and more so having paid stupid money for it. I ended up getting a flattering bob cut in and my hair dyed, a supposedly, permanent red even though it washed out a week later. Not surprisingly I didn't go back.

Another time I was broke and decided to allow a trainee to cut my hair. The cut itself was fine but the service was less than professional. She washed, more like assaulted my hair, in a manner so aggressively painful that I almost stopped her to find out what I had done to make her so angry and then while cutting it she didn't do the usual hairdresser small talk. Perhaps they hadn't covered that part of her training yet. Instead she spent the time bitching to a colleague about the fact I'd asked her to feather the ends of my hair (Because, apparently, it was awkward and would be a pain to do). 

I also have photos of the summer an impatient girl cut my fringe too short ( not me!, an actual hairdresser). I kept asking her to just take off a tiny bit more because it would be back in my eyes within days and she decided to save some time and cut a giant chunk out of my fringe so the summer I was 19 was also the summer I looked like a very startled boy for 3 months. Cheers for that.