I hate my hair except for a day or two each month when I like it. It is usually too short, too long, too thick, too thin; only occasionally just right.
This week I've experienced a whole new hair situation: SCORCHED.
I have been going to the same hair technician (is that the proper term?) for the past five years. I really like her and know her quite well by now. Mollie has been getting more and more difficult to get an appointment with because she has become so popular. I guess I feel possessive of her, I was one of her original customer at her first salon and I followed her to the next two places she worked and finally to her own salon. Somehow I feel entitled to some sort of priority when it comes to scheduling an appointment, but I know that is not the way it works.
When I called her salon last week, she was scheduling out 3 weeks and I was at a point where I needed a cut NOW. So I called someone who had lived in my ward and had opened her own salon in her home a year or so ago. I know her and her family quite well and felt comfortable going to her. Unfortunately, I was late due to some unexpected out-of-town guests who showed up 20 minutes before my appointment. So when I arrived late to my appointment, I suggested rescheduling to another day or else a cut only, no drying or styling. She said, "sure, no problem" and went to work. The cut was going well and when she finished, I reminded her not to worry about the dry/style portion. She responded, My next appointment hasn't arrived, so we will just go ahead and finish." She quickly went through the whole process and I was writing out a check when her next appointment walked through the door.
As I rushed out, I noticed a strange odor emanating from my head. I thought it must be a hair product she had used and went home and got back to work with duties of the day. During the night, I kept catching a whiff of that strange smell so I was looking forward to washing my hair in the morning.
As I lathered my hair in the shower, it felt strange in my hands--dry and rough. I started to suspect something was not right. I slathered on conditioner and left it on extra long. When I started blow drying, it seemed as if I was handling dried grass and when I finished I had this ball of fluffy, feather-like stuff billowing around my head. My fears were confirmed, my hair was scorched. She must have had the straight iron turned too high in her rush to finish! I was shocked and dismayed.
That was Thursday afternoon. I've spent the days since snipping away at chunks of scorched hair. Every time I look in the mirror I take my scissors and try to cut off the worst parts into my bathrooms sink. The ends of hair landing in the sink are letter-shaped: 'C's, 'L's, 'S's, 'U's and 'O's decorated the sink. I wonder what I could spell with all my burned letter-shaped hair ends?
Lesson learned! I will never be in a rush to get an appointment again. I am going to schedule myself three, four or five weeks out and never complain. I will call Mollie when she opens on Tuesday (she takes Mondays off) and see when she can fit in an emergency case and I will confess my impatience, plead for forgiveness and hope for a solution to being burned.