Scissors Cause Stress

Right, so the turnstiles have taught me patience more than anything else in this known world. It has also taught me to deal with stress for long periods of time, like as in for hours at a time. Yet there is one thing in this world that stresses me out faster than anything else. It's called a haircut. Every time I get a haircut I get alarmingly close to doing a 180 on my life and going to cosmetology school. This frightening desire does not stem from what we would call an "inspiring" environment, rather the desire to be able to express myself to those blasted hair dressers in an intelligible way that gets across what I want. That is the most stressful and frustrating part about the entire experience; the fact that in my head I know what I want, but I can't explain to those bimbos with brushes exactly what I'm looking for. Oh! Oh! Oh! Let's also discuss the apparently impossible task of getting a decent bang trim. What the St. Francis? It can't be that difficult of a concept to consistently screw up! Cut bangs at angle. Done and done?False.  And still, the entire institution continues to boggle the mind of women everywhere by bamboozling their bangs!! 

And then, whilst you sitting in that spinny chair stressing, and wishing that you knew all of that impressive shampoo, scissors, and styling lingo, your darling hairdresser aptly named Rach, Erica, Rich, Barb, or Matt stands above you, round brush in hand belittling you. You know the kind of questions they ask you. "So where do you work honey?" As if you were a lost child trying to find your parents. Or my personal favorite "So you got a boyfriend, Sugar?" Every time I have ever been asked that by a hairdresser I have answered no, and every time I get two penciled eyebrows thrown up in surprise, a little bit of sass, and an "Oh... well, hmm." Thanks Barb. Love ya. 

And so, all you sassy hairdressers out there, I may not know all the lingo... but I can write it out. So eat it; or cut it, whatever floats your boat. Thank you, and goodnight.