I haven’t had much luck with the whole groupon thing. Last year I bought two car detail packages for our nasty kid defiled cars, and they wouldn’t honor them. They did refund the money. Every day now an offer appears in my inbox. Procrastinating, depressed and bored I bought a haircut and full head of highlights, a 169 value for 69 dollars!
Now we must backtrack here a bit. I have always had a friend around that notified me when my hair was “in need” because I never really cared what it looked like. (shout out to Aviva and Katy to being the most influential in my hair world) Aviva was responsible for the black, the manic panic pink, and blue/green of my fun twenties. Katy took over in my 30’s and always makes me feel beautiful. BUT NOBODY notified me that my hair look quite as bad as it did until my husband said “so when are you going to get your hair did?” Wow! it must have been really bad. The next day I called “Mike” and got in the very next day. I use the quotations around his name because I’m pretty sure it was an Americanized version of a much more Russian name. After a gruelling morning of airport traffic when I sent said husband off to Florida, I somehow managed to arrive at Alfredo’s International Salon without crashing my car in the 8 inches of accumulated snow. Glass block everywhere, every outlet upside down, fake flowers, and “Mike.” Now, I wouldn’t call myself a salon snob because I have been getting my haircut at a place called Crazy Mullets for the past couple years for 20 bux a pop, but it was still a bit of a shock. I sat down resigned to my follicle fate.
We didn’t chat much due to the language barrier, while He did a very thorough foil job despite his obvious distaste of my scraggly hair. (his term) I ventured to the steam chair thing without a magazine and a very low battery on my phone. I sat quietly as I observed hair getting as burned as my ears. (PERMS!) I languished here for what seemed hours imagining myself in a skit on SNL.
Eventually, I got up and foraged for crumbs of food in the bottom of my bag in time for me to stick my head in the sink. It seems “Mike” and I were on the same wavelength after all. The ice was finally broken when he inquired about my necklace (it is a little saw) and I told him I work with wood. You would have thought a completely different “Mike” appeared. All of the sudden we were exchanging stories of our children, the education system and of his homeland.
Now we are ready for haircut!!! He does a very professional quick trim of my scraggly locks, and as I am about to tell him not to make it poofy, he shushes me. Now as examine my hair under my own light I am thoroughly impressed. Well done. I guess I will be heading back to see “Mike” in his forest of of fake foliage.