Thursday, December 22, 2005

Where else?

Where else do you get to listen to a dire radio station through tinny speakers for two and a half hours?

Where else do you get a chance to detail your holiday plans to a complete stranger?

Where else would you let someone lather dangerous chemicals onto your skin and then agree to inhale them for thirty minutes?

Where else would you take style advice from a nineteen-year-old Britney lookalike?

Where else would you be talked into parting with 11€ for a bottle of something that is, in all likelihood, no better than the version you could buy in the supermarket for 2€?

Where else does sheer boredom drive you to read every single page of the sort of magazine that you wouldn't normally even consider opening for fear of rotting you eyes?

Where else would you be willing to spend a couple of hours contemplating your increasingly imperfect reflection in unflattering light?

Where else would you allow someone to sit you in a shop window with a towel on your head?

At the hairdresser's of course. I had a great morning.



Wendy said...

Ooh...I haven't done the French hairdressing thing yet...not brave enough. Hope it was worth it.

deborah said...

the last time I saw you I liked the short style

I dyed mine today (not exactly a dye, some shampoo stuff called ... well in a red box, yes Dédicace, blond foncé cendré) I seem to wait longer and longer between using the stuff, so am practically white by the end of the month but it is wonderful stuff and seems to be harmless. Hilary told me about it in the first place.

As for hairdresser's I was told about two sisters near St Seurin, so I went the other day for a short back and sides, how much? eleven euros please ..... amazing

You forgot to add:

Where else is there always a small dog sitting quietly near the entrance ?

Sarah Mackenzie said...

I always wish that hairdressers were staffed by deaf mutes. And if they were blind too that would be great. Sort of cut by touch.

deborah said...

Sarah, this sounds sexist as daft blonds spring to mind in your case!
Change hairdresser's and always ask for the man ...
there are quite a few not bad looking and witty males out there, and they often go fast so you can leave quickly!

Lesley said...

Wendy: not worth it, neither the time nor the money.

Deborah: oooh, THAT'S sexist. Worst hairdo I ever had was from a man. I walked out of his salon looking like Angela Davies. And a boy apprentice managed to clip Z's ear last summer.

Sarah Mackenzie said...

I'm not sexist just hairdresserist.

I cut my own now and bore myself.

Where am I going tonight? Nowhere. Oooh that sounds lovely. Yes, lovely, and then I am going to self-immolate in a vat of cognac. Oh, super.

The price I pay for avoiding this kind of experience is that my hair may look a little odd. But honestly its not much odder than on some of the occasions that I have coughed up the readies and paid a professional.

It's not brain surgery is it? I mean, I would feel a little less comfortable about performing a lobotomy on myself.

Lesley said...

Sarah: Apparently self-trepanation is all the rage now. First buy your drill......