Getting hit in the solar plexus

I got a haircut yesterday! And unlike last time, I actually do resemble Anne Hathaway, and no one will mistakenly assume that my inspiration was Jamie Lee Curtis from True Lies. My hairdresser is brilliant. In just a few snips and choppity chop chops she saved me from the outgrown, middle-aged, soccer mom look I’d been sporting, and made me beautiful.

She is good for the soul. My soul happens to be very vain.

What was less good for my soul was the experience I had with the assistant who washed my hair and gave me an excellent scalp massage. She was young (under 25?) and charming. She told me she used a special shampoo/conditioner combo for people with thin hair – reasonable, since not only do I have baby hairs, but I also don’t have many of them. I’ve struggled to accept my thin hair over the years – luscious flowing locks is the second most feminine imagery after tits and ass – and have accepted it much more easily ever since I found my hair dresser who is skilled in constructing hair cuts that deceive the eye and create volume… before even being styled!

Aaaaaaaaaaanyhow, after the shampoo station, I spent a few minutes discussing various shampoos for thin hair with the assistant, and as she led me towards my hair dresser’s station, she politely asked me what had caused my thin hair, as I surely must not have always had so little. Did the thinness happen as a result of the pregnancy?

What? Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat did you just say, wench?

“Is it because of the pregnancy? Some women experience extreme hair loss after giving birth!”

No, I managed to croak out. No, it is not because of the pregnancy.

The assistant seemed skeptical. Without quite asking me if I was sure,  she did ask what, therefore, was the cause of my thin hair? So I explained how I had 10 surgeries in 6 years during my adolescence, including 6 requiring general anesthetics, and how the repeated shock to my system of those invasive drugs had resulted in permanent hair loss. I didn’t bother explaining that I was not, had never been, preggers, because I couldn’t face the risk of her making a further comment about my body-type or age that might be unintentionally brutal. I hoped that my explanation of medical difficulties would illicit some kind of compassionate reaction.

Instead, she shrugged, “Anesthetics can cause hair loss? I didn’t know.”

I gave up.

On the plus side, my hair dresser made me look beautiful, young, and not pregnant.

I think I need to commit to that diet

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7 comments

  1. Hahahahaha omg! The assistants comments shocked me so much I forgot what I was originally laughing at: your description of your soccer mom haircut. Brilliant. Also, the assistant needs to get her shit together.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Where was she trained to loose clients!
    I want to see your haircut… When could I see you to hand you your present… Are you available next Saturday for a cup of coffee?

    Liked by 1 person

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