15 February, 2010

End of The Quest

I've been on a quest. I have previously posted about my search for the perfect hairdresser. It has been a long and arduous search littered with traumatic experiences and very dodgy hair styles.

Today I believe I have reached the end of my quest. I walked out of a hair salon this morning without the feeling of frustration and annoyance. It was wonderful. Finally I was happy with the end result.

So many ticks of approval:

I was straight into the chair as soon as I arrived. No double booking or sitting around waiting to be squeezed in between someone else's colour and cut. I was on time and so was my hairdresser. Ok, I admit I had the first appointment of the morning, but hey, some of the hairdressers I have been to during the search have still managed to screw this up.

My hairdresser understood me. I don't speak the same language as hairdressers and have enormous difficulties explaining what I want. When asked what I would like to have done, I froze-up as usual and mumbled
                         “It's kinda flat. Can you make it un-flat”.
       
                  She responded with “Yep, I can do that. Would you like flicky bits and well as un-flat”
"Flicky bits" is a term I understand.  As promised, I now have flicky bits on my un-flat parts.

Decent coffee is a simple but effective way to make me love you forever. Bring me a second cup (with extra biscuits) and I'm your slave for life.

It took me a while to realise why I was feeling incredibly calm: No gossipy chatter. My hairdresser didn't feel the need to engage me in a conversation about size of Beyonce's bum or how Brad is better off without that skanky ho (something I have no opinion on). It was bliss.

The pièce de résistance: a massage chair. Oh happiness!! I was so relaxed I could have wet myself with joy. But wait, it gets better: a head massage that was just right. Too often the head massage is a wimpy little pat. Come on, don't be afraid to do a bit of damage. Dig your fingers in and see of you can get me beg for mercy. Make it feel really good when you stop.

Only one little negative:
The choice of radio station leaves much to be desired. Tuning in to the commercial radio stations can be a little dangerous when the host is a true bottom feeder. This guy (I will not sully my blog with his name) is lower than pond scum. The only reason I didn't put my fist through the radio was I was drooling uncontrollably in the massage chair and couldn't get my legs to function properly.

I'm now sitting at home with my marvellous flicky, un-flat hair. What a waste! This hair needs to be taken out on the town. I have party hair with nowhere to go. Can I go out tonight? No. I have to go to a committee meeting with a bunch of old crusties. Tragedy! I think I'll wear a short skirt and see if I can cause a heart-attack or two.

8 comments:

  1. Nothing beats good hair sex, so long as she still respects you post rubbing...

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  2. So jealous. I now cut my own hair after many, many years of tragic dos {or don'ts}. Naturally curly hair and hairdressers do not mix. Yay for you and your non-flat, flicky bit hair!

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  3. hahahaha - yet again you've cracked me up. I love your writing style Vicki. The perfect hairdresser - what a find. Well done indeed. Hope she measures up on the second visit.

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  4. "Life is an endless struggle full of frustrations and challenges, but eventually you find a hair stylist you like......." I hear ya, honey.

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  5. Wow - finding the perfect hairdresser is better than winning lotto, in my opinion. I'm very jealous!

    I'm with you PPMJ - my naturally curly hair sees a hairdresser once a year, if it's lucky. Then I spend the next three months waiting for the frizz to subside!

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  6. I was lucky, I was born into a family of not one but two great hairdressers.

    But I get the search, when I moved away I searched and searched and searched, often the firs thing I would do when I came home was book into to get my hair done.

    Congrats to you and your new love.

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  7. ha ha, I can see you know at a meeting with old crusty golfers in a short short skirt (hope it wasn't too short, we aren't built for that are we?). ha, ha, ha, ha.

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  8. Hey, i'm with you re the bottom feeding radio dwellers (?!) and the fact that they think we want to listen to negative testosterone filled dribble with half arsed opinions and too much air space to fill. I don't know who yours is but I'm with ya!

    Fabulous post Vicki.
    Congrats on the hair.

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