Blue Rinse Style Rant

17 09 2009

Before I begin I would like to apologise for the O.A.P like rant that you are about to face.

So yesterday I had the unfortunate task of going to get my haircut. Now for many this is seen as a pleasurable treat. Not for me. The following reasons will explain why.

To begin with I had to find the place. It seems every other shop has turned into a hairdressers or barbers with some sort of witty name. I’d finally narrowed it down and found myself in a room of mirrors which was occupied by a few people I used to go to school with. Not a great start, especially when I can’t fully remember their names and they all seem to be pregnant (I don’t want to judge but this indicates our priorities and interests may differ, greatly). I find myself dumped infront of a pile of out of date celebrity magazines, mostly featuring Jordan and Peter updates, whilst the hairdressers finish off their conversation about the drunken antics of the previous night.

Galaxy 102 is blaring through the speakers which means I am about to endure two hours of what some people like to call “RnB music”. I like to call it repetitive rubbish (well that’s the polite version anyway). Now I appreciate all sorts of music but I don’t understand how people can endure the utter rubbish being played on Galaxy 102 day in, day out. Nevermind the fact they play the same five songs on repeat each hour but the songs they play all sound the same! That might just be me fully immersing myself in granny mode but I’m pretty sure they all have the same beat and drone on about the same topics. I seriously contemplated putting my headphones in and hoping for the best when scissors were to be involved. I didn’t. Good job really as the hairdresser didn’t seem to realise I had ears. She was constantly apologising for catching them with whatever object she had in her hand. Whilst I’m on the topic of realisation, it was far too delayed for my liking when it came to the words hair, attached and head. I gained an instant (and unnecessary facelift!).

After acrylic nails were stabbed into my scalp several times in an attempt to massage my head whilst washing my hair I was finally ready for the actual cutting. My hairdresser made the most of this, she just. Kept. Cutting! If I hadn’t have stopped her I think I might be sporting a short back and side now. Despite all the cutting however, I still cannot see much out due to the hair covering my eyes. This is strange logic to me!

However, after my hair was attacked by many products and an elaborate hair drying style I left with a rather lovely bouffant. I will not be able to recreate this, no matter how hard I try.

It looks good while it lasts though.