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Hair raising stories

March 8, 2006

It’s official, I’ve lived here in Denver for a few days over a year now. One of the things that I was scared to death to leave behind was my hairstylist. Most men do not understand our relationship with the man or woman who does our hair, but believe me guys, there is a legitimate reason.

I have been absolutely mortified at the idea of finding a new stylist. So much so that I scheduled myself an appointment with the old one on my last visit to Seattle in June, and I haven’t had my hair cut since. Again, this terrifies me. I am a believer in regularly scheduled hair cuts, and even as the evidence (you know, the ugly line that shows the world your true hair color) that I hadn’t touched my head grew farther down my face, I resisted finding a stylist without a personal recommendation first. However, my hair has gotten unruly to the point of being maddening, so with much chagrin, I bit the bullet and went in to Beauty Brands and saw a stylist for a simple cut.

When it comes to hair, you most definitely get what you pay for. My ex used to criticize me for the amount of money I spent on getting my hair done every couple of months. It frustrated me because he would tell me how great it looked and then he’d see the charge on the debit card and flip out. If he could have seen me today, he would know why I always spent the extra money.

I should have known not to have any expectations from this group of girls, most barely out of cosmetology school, yet for some reason, I did. Maybe it’s because I had a friend get her hair cut there and it looked good, so I had faith, I don’t know. Warning bells should have gone off when she asked what products I used and I named off three lines that they carry in the store and she had no idea what brands I was talking about. It took this girl an hour and a half to crop my mop three inches and into the style that I wanted. Unfortunately, that’s all the time she had, as she had left another client waiting half an hour while she struggled to finish my ‘do. She attempted to blow dry it, then gave up and asked me if I minded straightening it myself. I ended up telling her to wet it back down and throw some gel in it and I’d be fine.

She apologized, but still charged me full price for the cut and style. Needless to say, I was miffed. The cut ended up coming out right, as I discovered once I got home and dried and straightened my hair myself. So at least I look okay and not some half-cut freak, but my search for a real stylist is on.

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