yet another reason being a woman is tough.
I love getting my hair cut, but I hate getting my hair washed. I mean, it feels good and all, but I’m not truly comfortable until they’re coming at my head with sharp pointy objects.
Beforehand, there’s always the dilemma that if I show up with clean hair, I waste water and hair life and time; but if I show up with dirty hair, they’ll think I’m a redneck and give me a haircut to match.
And whether my hair is dirty or clean, I have to face the horrible torture chamber that a sink-chair is. I have to choose between an aching neck because my head is too far into the tub, or a shoulderful of water because it’s too far out. Sit/recline-ing in front of a roomful of people is rather unflattering, and staring at the world through half closed eyelids and looking like Frankenstein is downright mortifying. And those towels? They’re not even as big as my hair is long! They half-prop them on your head and you have to trot through the salon with the towel falling off your head and your hair draining all over the floor.
And then you have to pay for the whole thing?!