I didn’t mean to stereotype, but…
I finally went for a long-overdue, drastic post-breakup haircut yesterday. J loved my hair long, thick and flowy. And I kept it that way because it was easy to manage, economical and… okay, I cried once when the hairstylist cut it too short.
I must admit I have healthy hair. Though I don’t do the weekly masks or the monthly treatments, my hair had grown to my waist and it’s still too thick to bun up. However, waiting for it to dry, or when the weather gets hot like this, thick, long hair can be such a bitch. So, after complaining about it for such a long time, I finally stepped into the salon. I didn’t ask for my previous stylist because he had adviced me against cutting off my hair as he thought my hair was “So beautiful!! Why cut?! Just trim off the dry ends can already.”
Bravely, I sat down on the Dentist’s, I mean Hairdresser’s Chair, and hoped Fate finds me a capable stranger. And this stranger came in the form of a youngish male, speaking in accented Mandarin, looking like he’s barely graduated from the hairdressing Academy next door. I hesitated before telling him what I wanted with my hair. I thought maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to ask to see his certificate when his fingers were already assessing the state of my hair.
“Just a trim?” he asked.
“No. I want bangs until here. I want four inches off my ends. And I want long layers.” I breathed, hoping I got it to him loud and clear. Music can be so loud at those places.
And so, I bounced out of the place half an later with half my original hair on the floor around the chair, and its weight off my shoulders. Not surprisingly, the boyfriend didn’t comment at all when I met him in the evening, even when I’ve told him about the trip to the salon. It was only when I slyly slipped in an observation about my fringe did D scrunch up his face and say, “That trip to the salon was a waste of money. It looks practically the same. Yeah, maybe except for the fringe.”
Well, HELLOOOOO?!! This, coming from a guy who probably spends twice the sum of money I spent on his haircut, maybe four, five times a year? D only grudgingly agreed that the bangs did give my hair more shape after I had half-screamed at him and made him clutch what’s left of my hair while we were sitting at Carl’s Jr. *rolls eyes heavenward
Maybe the next question I should ask him is if he had noticed I had put on 10 kg.