I should mention that I don't like getting my hair cut. I like the results, but I don't like the cutting part. I have a really sensitive head and all the tugging and combing makes every outing a rather stressful 30 minutes.
The other part I don't like about getting my haircut is deciding what I want them to do. I'm averse to big changes, but at the same time I don't like the same ol' same ol' all the time. Today I got a picture off the Internet of long layers, the way I thought I'd like them done. It happened to be a picture of Ashley Olsen--I hoped the person cutting my hair didn't recongize her and think I worshipped her like some 12-year-olds worship Miley Cyrus.
Ashley's style was choppier-looking than my current very blah layers, and I liked the freedom with which the layers stood away from her face. I figured that it was styled, but I thought I could achieve a good replica of the look without a styling.
No such luck there. I have thick hair and lots of it, and the sheer weight of my hair made my layers look heavy, not lighthearted and fancy-free like Ashley's. :P One of these days I'll get around to styling my hair...Maybe.
I still liked the choppiness and was overall satisfied with the job the girl had done, and went up to the counter even contemplating tipping her. She was such good company. As Miae asked me if I had a frequent card, I opened my purse to bring out my wallet and....it wasn't there.
I knew instantly what had happened, but seriously hoped I had just left it in my car. I hurriedly explained that that must've been where it was and darted out to the car to check.
Nope. No wallet. I was driving without a license and I had no way to pay her for the haircut I had just received.
I did have my checkbook! I presented it to her hopefully, but she told me, "Oh, no checks." She was starting to look worried.
So I explained, with lots of apologetic looks, that I lived just two minutes away and could run home and get it, bring it back and pay her. Naturally, that made her nervous, but there was really no other choice. I wondered how she would make sure I came back. Was there anything I could give her, any possession, that she would consider valuable enough to bring me back for it? Maybe my purse? That made me nervous, but at least all my money and ID were in my wallet at home.
"What is your phone number?" she asked me, and I had to laugh to myself--such a simple request! My phone number. Of course she could have it. "And my name is Stephanie," I told her.
That out of the way, I ran to my car and drove the three blocks to the apartment. Every speed bump I had to go over on the long drive through our apartment complex seemed so superfluous. I found my wallet right on the couch where I'd left it, after pulling it out to check if I had that frequenter card and forgetting to put it back.
Upon re-entrance to the salon, I was greeted with a joyful, "Stephanie!" from Miae, and now that the drama part was over, I laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation and immediately decided I liked Miae a lot. Turnover at beauty salons has got to be at least as bad as Domino's, but I sure hope I get to see her again. :)
In all the flurry I forgot to tip her...Maybe next time.
