Yeah - I got my hair cut....unfortunately I got them ALL cut

“A bad hair cut is two people's shame”
Danish Proverb quotes

I did it again, folks. Just shoot me now! I went to the butcher shop hair salon. Why is it that I plunk down money at a hair place, and WALK OUT looking worse than when I walked in?

What is up with that?

I asked for a TRIM.

In hair stylist talk this translates to: "Cut it as short as you want."

Either that or they have their fingers in their ears going, "La la la" while I'm talking. 'Cause they sure aren't listening!

I'm not one to care too much about my hair. Don't get me wrong. I wash it, style it, etc. I'm not too fussy. Till now.

Now I want to cry every time I pass a mirror.

What the heck was she thinking?

Was she REALLY a hair stylist? "Stylist" being the key word.

Come to think of it, I don't recall seeing her license taped to the mirror. True, I wasn't looking for it, but still.

Crap. Let's be honest here. I can't see diddly when my glasses are off. So even if there WAS a license taped there, who could read it?

And besides, once I sit down in that chair, I swear I get hypnotized by the sounds of the scissors snipping. Snip, Snip. My eyes look like this.

Plus, having someone run their hands through my hair? I'm in heaven.

So let's review. We have a hypnotized, blind-as-a-bat, middle-aged woman sitting in your chair. If you told me to quack like a duck and flap my wings I'd probably do it.

But back to the problem at hand. My hair. Or lack thereof.

So, she gets done cutting my hair. Here comes the defining moment. I reach for my glasses, slip them on, and...

Lord love a duck!

"What do you think?" The stylist asks, quite proudly.

I, forever the wuss, and kind person, am at a loss for words. Inside my head I'm thinking, "OH MY GOD! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY HAIR! YOU CALL THIS A HAIRCUT? I COULD HAVE DONE A BETTER JOB THAN THIS!"

But I only reply, "Um, it's a little short."

I try fluffing in up with my fingers, thinking it's still wet. What little is left falls limply back to my scalp.

"Can you put a little sculpting wax on it to puff it up?"

"Sure." She grabs a jar, opens it and spreads some on her hands. Then she pulls some through my hair. That made a world of a difference. Snort.

This does NOT look good.

I look at my bangs and they are crooked. She notices me staring at them.

"I cut your bangs on a slant because I saw that you wore them to the side."

My bangs haven't looked this crooked since my mother cut my hair when I was seven years old.

I told her, "I pushed my bangs to the side because they were getting long, that's all."

"Oh. Well, I'll just cut the tips off to make your bangs even."

Snip, snip.

Now I look like Prince Valiant.

Only his bangs are straighter and his hair is longer.

Jim asked me if I said anything. What would that accomplish? Would it make my hair grow back, like INSTANTLY?


I learned my lesson.

Wal-Mart might have everything.

But they don't have good hair "stylists".
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