You Get What You Pay For

And I just paid 64 bucks for a haircut. And it is faaaaantastic. I don't know if that makes me beautiful or a sucker.

In the past I have been known to recruit friends to cut my hair. This worked well on several occasions until one time June got tired half way through and left me with, well, half a haircut. I then decided to enlist professional help at a salon for the going rate of 9 bucks a haircut. Did I say salon? Well, it is called the Hair Corral. And as I sat in the chair getting my cheap cut, several animals were watching me as their dead heads hung from the wall. I have been on a journey for a positive experience for years now. And today I found him. His name is Patrick.

I called the salon, yes this one is for real, and they asked who I wanted to see. I explained I was a first timer and the receptionist told me I would be seeing Patrick. I had to laugh because I knew exactly what would happen. I would let a man cut my hair and it would be the best one ever. And it was.

When I arrived at the salon I knew instantly this was no corral. There were products on the shelves, not animals. Then Patrick greeted me and as I followed him upstairs, I realized Patrick and I were wearing the same perfume. Or cologne. Fragrance.

I sat in the chair and instantly he told me that I had beautiful bone structure in my face. Oh stop. I told him great, just make my hair look good with those beautiful bones. I told him I didn't really have a vision and that I needed his opinion. He explained that my face structure would look best with a sleek look with a part that slightly changed the shape of my forehead. I would then end up with an oval looking face which is what society deems as beautiful. He kind of laughed and I told him we must conform.

He told me about products I could use to achieve different looks. In my mind I told myself I must not buy these silly products at 20 bucks a pop. Until Patrick asked me if I wanted to try one and I much too quickly replied yes. Then he asked me if I wanted to schedule again for six weeks. Good grief Patrick, stop being a pusher. My brain told me I could buy three packs of diapers for this price. My mouth told him I couldn't commit to such shenanigans and that I would gladly reschedule for the following year.

And so what I have learned from this is that I get what I pay for. I like my hair. At least a lot more than the half-do June gave me. And even though I will not be attending the required 6 week beauty appointments, I have beautiful bones. I kind of have a hunch most of his clients do. Oh well, this sure beats the heck out of ugly wife day.