Did I ever tell you about the time I got the best/worst haircut of my life?
It actually wasn’t best or worst because of the cut of the hair. It was because of the cutter of the hair.
I have had your obligatory heinous haircuts throughout the years – accidental undercuts, redneck layers, pseudo-mom do’s, etc.
But this one was just your average trim…mixed in with a few extra fabulous pieces.
I went with my mom to get her haircut from the same man she has been going to for decades. His name is Steve, he wears Wranglers, and has a mustache and a wife, but I don’t know if I can ever believe that a man who cuts women’s hair is not gay.
Especially when I met the guy who cut my hair. He was borderline fabulous, with a pitchy voice and a gay lisp. But he also has a wife…so who knows about that.
All I know is that 2 minutes into my shampoo, he became completely obsessed with reshaping my eyebrows. He asked once. I said no. He asked again. I said maybe next time. Then he all but refused to cut my hair unless I let him shape my eyebrows.
That’s when I relinquished and went back to the beauty corner. 5 minutes later, after just one “Oops… there’s a little blood here,” I had reshaped eyebrows.
Then, after cutting my hair while making many, many puns about my last name (“I hope you aren’t in a RUSH!!”), he asked me if he could braid my hair since I was going to the gym.
I said yes because the only thing I love more in life than Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness, is people playing with my hair. We had the best conversation, I was pumped about my new brows, and I even bought a product when checking out because I liked the guy so much. (I NEVER buy product.)
It actually wasn’t best or worst because of the cut of the hair. It was because of the cutter of the hair.
I have had your obligatory heinous haircuts throughout the years – accidental undercuts, redneck layers, pseudo-mom do’s, etc.
But this one was just your average trim…mixed in with a few extra fabulous pieces.
I went with my mom to get her haircut from the same man she has been going to for decades. His name is Steve, he wears Wranglers, and has a mustache and a wife, but I don’t know if I can ever believe that a man who cuts women’s hair is not gay.
Especially when I met the guy who cut my hair. He was borderline fabulous, with a pitchy voice and a gay lisp. But he also has a wife…so who knows about that.
All I know is that 2 minutes into my shampoo, he became completely obsessed with reshaping my eyebrows. He asked once. I said no. He asked again. I said maybe next time. Then he all but refused to cut my hair unless I let him shape my eyebrows.
That’s when I relinquished and went back to the beauty corner. 5 minutes later, after just one “Oops… there’s a little blood here,” I had reshaped eyebrows.
Then, after cutting my hair while making many, many puns about my last name (“I hope you aren’t in a RUSH!!”), he asked me if he could braid my hair since I was going to the gym.
I said yes because the only thing I love more in life than Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness, is people playing with my hair. We had the best conversation, I was pumped about my new brows, and I even bought a product when checking out because I liked the guy so much. (I NEVER buy product.)
That’s when I saw the total, $89.00. I have paid more than $20 for a haircut approximately 2 other times in my life, but I felt good about this one because I liked the stylist so much.
Sure, I walked out of there wearing French-braid pigtails and bloody eyebrows, but it was worth it for the company of the flaming non-gay man (FNGM).
Cut to an hour later. My mom informing me that her haircut only cost $40 and my dad alerting that I am a sucker with "flat" eyebrows. That FNGM had charged me for the whole kit and caboodle, including the forced eyebrow reshaping and the voluntary braided pigtails!!!
I would have started crying if I didn’t feel so dead inside. I was jipped by one of the most sacred relationships a woman can have – with her hairdresser.
I am never venturing outside of Great Clips for as long as my limp locks can handle it. It may be completely devoid of any scalp massaging or even shampoo, but I know that Great Clips will never promise me more than a few sprays from a spray bottle and cut from a kind lady whose baby is not related to her husband.
Sure, I walked out of there wearing French-braid pigtails and bloody eyebrows, but it was worth it for the company of the flaming non-gay man (FNGM).
Cut to an hour later. My mom informing me that her haircut only cost $40 and my dad alerting that I am a sucker with "flat" eyebrows. That FNGM had charged me for the whole kit and caboodle, including the forced eyebrow reshaping and the voluntary braided pigtails!!!
I would have started crying if I didn’t feel so dead inside. I was jipped by one of the most sacred relationships a woman can have – with her hairdresser.
I am never venturing outside of Great Clips for as long as my limp locks can handle it. It may be completely devoid of any scalp massaging or even shampoo, but I know that Great Clips will never promise me more than a few sprays from a spray bottle and cut from a kind lady whose baby is not related to her husband.
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