It usually results in 3-5 days where you start conversations with a "Before you say anything, I don't need any comments about my hair OK?"
Not me though. I haven't had my hair cut here. I'm badly in need of one but I don't know anywhere "safe" to go.
After R's latest outcome from what is (supposedly) the best salon in Hanoi, I'm not convinced that any viable options exist for me. He strutted up to dinner one Saturday night looking like a 1950's schoolboy (side part 'nall). I was gobsmacked. I don't think his dopey grin or ugly shirt could be legally considered the hairdresser's fault, but I would still claim them as consequential damages.
Then again, I'm with Robert Louis Stevenson:
“Everybody, sooner or later, sits down to a banquet of consequences.”
Or Mark Twain:
“To succeed in life, you need two things: ignorance and confidence.”
But I am not R. I am left with but one hair option: my kitchen scissors.
I started this morning. I hacked a little bit off the back after my shower. I've decided that I am going to work my way through it gradually and see what comes out the other end.
Clearly, this is a plan that can't fail. Can. Not. Fail.
Either way, if I am forced to live with a bad haircut then I'd rather the money stayed in my pocket.
3 comments:
Welcome to a life of bad hair. My only advice is get yourself a mirror tto check the back. And if all else fails, blame it on bad hair product.
WHY didn't you ask me???? Remember my hairdoods.. i am great at hair stuff...
i'm not sure i can trust you with my my new hairdood. i get the feeling you haven't really done many of them hairdoods yourself.
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