Is it wrong to take a handful of valium before my hairdresser has cut one hair on my head? I like new, fresh haircuts. I don't like getting my haircut. Sitting in the chair, making small talk with my hairdresser (don't get me wrong, I love, love my hairdresser), anxiously awaiting the outcome is excruciatingly painful for me. I would rather be lambasted in the nose with a cast aluminum meat tenderizer.
I bring this up because I have an appointment with my hairdresser this afternoon. She does a great job in coloring the little grey hairs that keep sneaking in (those jerks), and she is very creative, offering suggestions for my length, layers, new styles, etc.
I think it all boils down to a C O N T R O L T H I N G. I'm sitting helplessly in a salon chair that can be pumped up or down at the whim of my hairdresser, with a smock wrapped around me like a straight jacket while my hairdresser, whom I don't know all that well, is hovering over me with a pair of sharp scissors. I'm subconsciously concerned about escaping with my life should the need arise.
I don't understand it really, but I just accept the fact that haircut = drama. I've never once had an incident while getting my hair cut--other than coming away with a few lousy dos that I don't talk about, except with my therapist. Someday I would like to be able to confidently walk in and request a T w i g g y
haircut, but I don't have the face for it and the end result may push me over the edge.
--Fortuitous Observer