Cut My Hair & The Chit-Chat!

I have the worst luck with hair dressers. Every time I find a good one, they quit. I am starting to get a complex. I’ve lost five in about ten years. I’ve also encountered several rejects who shouldn’t be allowed to trim a chia pet let alone my golden lion’s mane. (Side note: Dr. McDreamy on Grey’s Anatomy stole MY hairstyle, not the other way around. I’d appreciate some credit on this one.)

I’ve found a new hair dresser near my home and she is pretty decent. There is just one problem: she talks to bloody much! She engages me in useless chit-chat and all I can think is – “Shouldn’t you actually be looking at my head when you use those scissors?” Today I went in for a cut and a few highlights; bringing a book with me to illustrate the fact I didn’t want to talk about the shitty weather we’ve been having. But I guess she just assumed it was a fashion accessory because she would not shut up.

I am guilty of talking too much when I am nervous. I keep spitting out sentences and quite often one has nothing to do with the other BUT I can take a hint when someone wants me to zip it. I thought nodding, smiling and being silent would’ve been enough but it wasn’t. Holding the book right in front of my face failed as well. Short of cutting my ears off – I didn’t know what to do. There was no way I would tell her to shut up. You don’t piss off the person cutting your hair unless you want to don a hat for five weeks until the bald spots, where their hand ‘accidentally’ slipped, fill in.

She does good work though, can’t knock her there, so next time I may have to fake laryngitis…oh yeah and a double inner ear infection.