Wednesday I could not stand my shaggy hair one more minute
and, after reading reviews on several hair salons close by, I gritted my teeth
and went to one that was highly recommended by the reviewers.
Having spent the past four winters in Mexico it has been an
ongoing project to get a halfway decent
haircut. To begin with, there is usually a language barrier. Since my Spanish
is mostly about beer and bathrooms it is difficult at best explaining how I
want my hair cut. Heck, I have trouble getting beauticians in the States to
understand what I want. Even taking a photo along doesn’t seem to be much help.
After much commiserating with my women friends off other boats I resigned
myself to the fact that the options in Mexico are pretty much a bad cut or no
cut at all. Haircuts for men are, of course, a much different matter. Their
only real concern is how much or how little they will be required to pay.
So…Wednesday’s haircut. I had high hopes when I entered the
salon but from the minute the first cut was made I knew I was in trouble. I had
told the beautician that the shaggy stuff over my ears and on the back of my
neck had to go, and that it all needed to be shorter (but not too short), especially
my bangs. I stipulated a part on the right side (which I realize is usually the
domain of men) and asked her to trim my “sideburns” shorter & jaggedy. By
the time she finished with me and I walked out $28 lighter, my hair was so
short the only option I have is letting it stick straight up, the part was on
the wrong side and it was full of “product” that I don’t use. Arggh!
I have finally come to the realization that a good haircut
is probably a thing of the past for me. I am trying to remember that the one
good thing about a bad haircut is that it will grow out.