Yesterday, I got my hair done. I hadn't had it done since THIS TIME, so I was in desperate need of a touch up. I'm not going to include a picture, because it pretty much looks like it did BEFORE.
Last time I made an appointment, I had asked for an eybrow wax in addition to my cut and color. After all, when you have voluptuous eyebrows such as mine, that resemble that of Bert from Sesame street, or a large black caterpillar crawling across your forehead, there's just not enough time in a day to spend plucking.
I found out last time, that my stylist doesn't do eyebrows. Not only does she not do them, but since I have to go in the evening, it is highly unlikely another stylist would be able to squeez me in for a simple eyebrow wax.
This time, I thought I would be smart. When making my appointment, I asked the receptionist if she could also make me an appointment with another stylist for an eyebrow wax.
She explained that they don't do that.
"How it works is, she will probably highlight your hair, and then ask another stylist if they're available to do it for you."
I explained that I had attempted that last time, and ended up going home with the same furry friends I had come in with. But, she would not budge. "There is always another stylist here, who I'm sure would be happy to accommodate you."
When I showed up for my appointment, the place was crawling with stylists. There was even a male stylist or two.
I sat down while making small talk with my stylist. About halfway through my highlights, the room clears out. It was like someone rang the bell at the end of the day in a hgh school. Suddenly, there's no longer a slew of possible eybrow waxers, only one.
Trip on a Tricuit! Now what am I gonna do?!
I ask my girl if she thought the other stylist would be able to do my eyebrows.
She not only looked doubtful, she downright said "probably not".
I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!!!
As I was leaving my appointment, loving my hair but hating that I still looked like Groucho Marx, I gave in and made an appointment for Saturday to remedy the situation.
Normally, I wouldn't bother, but I'll be seeing my inlaws for the first time in quite some time next week, and I want to look my best. Or at least, better than I do now. My "best" was about 50 pounds ago...
I'm linking this up with my gal pal MiMi for her F Bomb Friday, even though it's really just me whining.
Perhaps you have a better story to tell? Go ahead and link up! It's the bomb diggity!