I hate being rude. I do, I do, I do.
I was looking forward to getting my hair done, not that I do anything fascinating or cutting edge, but I like talking to my girl. She just got married and I was going to hear all about it. I had Country Thunder stories and dating escapades. It was going to be fun.
I had rearranged my training session to be at 5. It was an inconvenience for my trainer and I really appreciate she did that. So I had hair at 4, run around the corner to the gym by 5. No problem. This was happening.
I show up five minutes early to the salon–my girl’s starting another woman. I get text confirmations so I bring up the message, terrified I didn’t confirm. Nope, there it is in green. I keep the message open and smile at the front desk. Yeah they have me down.
No explanation I’m handed over to another girl for my sensory excursion. Which she’s never done. I know because she kept telling me. I went with my gut and chose my three scents which then went to one. That was the last time I listened to my gut at the salon that day. Again she explained she’s never done this and proceeded to rub my hands. No problem we all have to have a first time. My girl will get to me soon.
The massage lasted all of two minutes. My left hand seizes up in a cramp so I’m rubbing out my hands that just got rubbed out.
“Oh does it feel good?” the girl asks. Yeah. It’s 4:15 I was at 4 and I’m not being late for my workout.
My girl and this woman are having a great convo about her wedding. All light and happy.
“How are you?” my girl asks over her shoulder.
“Great I have somewhere to be at 5,” I drop.
“Oh no.” my girl says.
“Oh are you the next hair appointment?” the woman asks. No, bitch, I’m here for my I’m here for my health and a hand cramp.
“I’m at 4 which was 15 minutes ago.”
“Well if it makes you feel any better she’s not going to dry my hair,” and she makes intense eye contact with me like I’m the bitch. No that doesn’t make me feel better. I don’t care about your hair. I care that I had an appointment at 4 and another one at 5.
I’m quickly humbled which is why I don’t bark much.
“I can put you under the dryer and and style you afterward,” my girl offers the woman which she says is fine because she’s easy to work with. great so I get an audience and I look like a problem child. I apologize to my girl. She apologizes for it being late and the owner the other stylist grandma is having health problems. Again terrible, but not my problem. I’ve been on that side helpess and doing the best you can. It sucks. But I have a schedule.
She does the scalp massage I adore, but it doesn’t matter. I’m so tense it’s lost on me. Her fingers just slide off my skin.
“So where do you have to be at 5?” I lied- again bad karma that was swift.
“I have a date.” if I had a date I should have left 15 minutes ago yet here I am just getting my hair wet. Not a complete lie. I was meeting up with a guy after my training session.
“Oh tell me about him.” I don’t want to. I’m so on the fence about this guy and didn’t want to talk about him. I don’t know my girl well enough to talk about the Country Thunder guy(s) and especially with the woman under the dryer making a to do pretending not to listen.
I think she cut my hair. She went fast and her trims are near invisible. I should have left. I shouldn’t have tipped but I’ve been there.
Barely made my work out session on time but it was one of my best.