I've been trying for ages now to get an appointment with that girl who cuts my hair. I don't know why I keep going to her, since she doesn't do a very good job. It's always uneven and kind of choppy, but not in that stylishly-blunt kind of way. It's like she just takes the scissors and hacks randomly until she feels a sense of completion. The artistic temperament's approach to haircutting, maybe. And she's moody and hard to get ahold of and she never ever ever wants to see me. I've been telling her my hair needs cutting for probably three months and she keeps telling me she'll do it later. Later later later. It's not like she even has to come up with small talk to make with me while she's cutting my hair; she just puts on music and doesn't say a word until she's done with it. At least it's good music, I guess.
I finally got an appointment with her today, on absolutely no notice. I came home and found out she was available right then, so I scrambled to make it before she changed her mind. She did as crappy a job as she ever does; my hair's shorter than I wanted it and the layers are messy AGAIN. It's a good thing I have curly hair so the mistakes don't show. Man, after four years of this you'd think I'd find a new haircutter. It just goes to show you how much I'll put up with for the sake of good prices.
For those of you not getting the joke, I cut my own hair. It's fun. You should try it sometime, but if you care a whole lot about how it turns out, you might want to have a real haircutter on emergency call.Posted by dianna at December 14, 2004 07:21 PM