So this college student decided to let another college student cut her hair and trekked from the photography department over to the cosmetology department. A coworker recommended someone who was just a week or so away from graduation so I assumed (wrongly, as you might has guessed) that all would be well.
Let me preface this next thrilling part of the story by mentioning an assignment I had earlier in the semester. A small group of us had to go around the college taking photojournalism shots and ended up in the cosmetology department figuring as they seemed to be the most narcissistic group in school (plus the dairy guys were kind of mean) we'd get plenty of shots. Enter R. (name withheld to protect identity): probably the scariest looking human being I've ever seen in real life. Mind you, not naturally scary; the scariest looking human being who made themselves look that way on purpose. I wouldn't want to know the details of her morning routine, but I imagine it goes something like this:
Grind old fashioned shaving brush into Wet N' Wild dark maroonish blush
Grind said blush onto cheeks intensely until face is about to bleed
Crookedly draw lip liner onto lips with an unflattering brownish color ¼” outside of natural lip line- attempt to fill in.
Draw same color onto forehead to make eyebrows appear where they seem to have fallen off beforehand.
Last but not least- apply liquid eyeliner is the most cartoonish fashion so far past eyes that it makes friends with fake eyebrows.
Of course, I start thinking about this girl (who honestly would SCARE small children) while I'm sitting there, toying with my bra-strap length hair, chuckling (yes, I chuckle) at the thought of my co-worker recommending this girl. Just as I decide if it turns out to be Scary Spice, I'm going to leave- guess who walks up, smacks her gum at me, raises those unholy crayon eyebrows and calls my name. (yes, I know you've guessed by now, you're all smart like that, but keep reading...I'm putting off a paper to write this...AND I've turned off Scrubs)
By the way, Scary Spice is also Grumpy Spice and the Nonpersonality Spice (Spell Check tells me I've been being very creative with my words throughout this story but I told it that it's not the boss of me). At this point, I'm still under the impression that this girl's name is Jessica and I'm wondering which foot I'm going to kick my coworker with. While clown girl (I have an array of names for her...I'm sure her friends do too. And people who see her in the street) is washing my hair and grunting at me in her non-personalityish way, I mistakenly look up at her, first in horror, then in amazement that a) she does this on purpose, and b) nobody stops her, and finally I look at her in amusement. Yes, I start laughing. And I'm usually not such a mean person, sincerely. You can be the most naturally fucked up looking person in the world and I'll be nice- but if you guys had seen this girl you would HAVE to agree that she at LEAST deserves a “wtf?!” face. At the very least.
Anyway- so throughout the hair wash/cut, I'm trying to stifle my laughter and I do so by making conversation. Turns out Scary Spice is half deaf and incredibly stupid. To every single thing I said, it was, “Huh?” [repeat] “Oh...uh huh....what?” [repeat while shrugging shoulders in a 'what's the point?' manner] “OH YAH!” She kept “OH-YAH!ing things she had no clue about and no reason in the world to say OH YAH! to.
This seems almost like a side note, but I have to mention she didn't seem to know what she was doing with my hair. I went in with my hair naturally curly/wavy without any product, told her my hair was naturally that way and she still asked halfway through “So do you perm your hair?” Another thing I have to mention is that I loved my hair. It was long, dark, layered, and wavy/curly. I loved it. It was just damaged a few inches on the end and I thought I would do something different for the first time in years instead of just a trim. I asked for a longer angled bob with layers. She gave me a nonbob that wasn't at all noticeably angled and when the instructor checked her work and said “Oh, no layers?” she says, “Crap. I forgot...do you want layers?” when the salon had just closed. And no, she wasn't nervous, new, or inexperienced- she's graduating!
Oh well. At least I was occupied by planning out this blog entry in my head- otherwise I would have started crying when the stupid tiny pretty little blonde cosmetology student next to me let took the hot rollers out of her hair and ran her fingers through the hair cascading down her back and I realized this idiotic deaf clown had just chopped off my hair. (that's the line I planned while I was sitting there!) But then I would have stopped crying because I saw her put her over teased hair into a ridiculous looking 6” bouffant. Maybe it's not just the clown; maybe it's all of them.
P.S. I saw the clown in Wal-Mart yesterday and my 5-year-old (who has never seen her) pointed at her in confusion and said, “Mommy?...look.”
By the way- I don't have a monkey. I didn't borrow one and put makeup on it. I don't think that's a very nice thing to do.
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