A Bad Hair Day

      
    Today I trudged into the Hair Cuttery in the Publix plaza.I almost went to my usual stomping ground,but I didn't think I could take the drama of Supercuts today.Any other day I could deal with stories of the hair stylist's mentally disabled mother and listen to snippets of  phone conversations followed by explicit details of the stylist's current and past relationships. Any other day I could relive the experience of having the hair dresser burst into tears and then run to the back room. Nevermind my that my hair was only half highlighted. I am a patient kind of gal. Any other day I could tolerate the ignorant comments such as "where do you elementary school teachers' find those (dumpy) denim dresses with school buses?" Normally,I would delight in being a passive participant in such dramatic escapades.Who needs fiction when you can have reality? But today I needed a calm reality.
      I opened the door to Hair Cuttery, a cheap walk in salon similar to Supercuts.I hoped that perhaps it would be an alternate universe. I asked if someone could trim "this", pointing to my tangled,dry, in desperate need of a trim, head of hair. A lady,let's call her Monique, didn't seemed perturbed by my Bob Marleyesque hair.
"Follow me," she ordered.
    That is about the extent of our conversation. She sighed and favored one leg as she walked. Monique informed me her shift would end in thirty five minutes.She had  the energy of a sack of potatoes. I began to feel like I was in the drive through at McDonalds.My hair was being twisted into little ringlets and snipped at with a pair of scissors that looked a lot like a comb. Great.I remember receiving a cut with that particular type of cutting device.I recall how my hair grew back even more frizzy and unruly with my ends uneven.Too late. I just sat there and hummed "que sera sera,whatever will be will be" Occassionally Monique would see a coworker and begin to squeal with delight as they talked about the all the fun they would soon have.I presume this would be after their shifts ended. I was beginning to long for the the excitement of my usual wacky walk in salon. At least there I was enterained and occassionally acknowledged.
   I watched the fragments of my hair fall to the ground as the scissors snipped,snipped.Today was a rough day for me. I felt weighed down my responibilites and by my tendency to become stuck in my head. I realized I needed to refresh and renew in some way,even if it meant literally getting rid of dead ends. My hair my grow back unevenly, and I may end up looking a little like a poodle as the new growth emerges. I can not control the direction my hair grows or the direction that my life unfurls. Que Sera,Sera, whatever will be will be.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZbKHDPPrrc