Friday, July 11, 2008

The Long Haired Truffle Eatin' Queen of England

I have been agonizing over a hair cut for weeks. I need one. My hair at this point is really bordering on the edge of Crystal Gayleness. I wear it pretty much exclusively in a pony tail... which sucks. It gives me headaches. My problem is that although I have pretty simple hair it can be seriously F**KED up by a stylist who is not keepin' it real and wearing their thinking cap the whole time they are workin' on it. This has happened to me a few too many times in the past and I have ended up looking like a nubby toothed, rabid badger chewed on my locks instead of like someone with skills took an interest and used actual sharp scissors to achieve the final look. I strive to avoid this situation at all costs now that I have lived the life of nubby toothed badger induced hairstyles for months on end.

I went to a place the other day that I had been eyeballing for a few weeks to see what I could see and possibly book an appointment. This salon is a busy little mecca of people with hot pink skunk stripes on their heads and pierced eyebrows and whatnot. They told me they could set me up with a certain girl (I am not naming names just to be nice) and when I asked if I could meet her they said NO because she was in the back at the moment giving someone a pedicure. Ummm... yeah. No Thanks. I don't need a chic who just finished scraping the dirt out from under someones pinky toenails to be working on my hair. If she can't stay busy enough doing hair and has to supplement her income with dirty feet then maybe she is not the gal for me.

So I move on. To this guy....


I have an appointment with him next week. Look at him. He is the perfect vision of hair cuttingness... is he not? I met him in person when I made the appointment and I am here to tell you... I am totally in to what he is doin'. I have been looking at this ad every single week in the Santa Fe Reporter for three years and I'll tell ya what he knows what he is doing running that ad every week because when you see him in person it feels like your meeting a celebrity. I forgot to ask what he charges and there is every chance that I have signed on for a $200 hair cut. It will be the grand finale of my time in Santa Fe. A fancy lady hair cut. So that I will look smashing in the woods of California. The squirrels will love me. The sea birds will cry out with praise for my precision cut layers.

So I will of course let you all know how it all turns out. Now that I have made such a big deal out of it I have created the obvious possibility that it will be a disaster. But somehow I think not... we shall see.

Today I discovered that I thought I was paying $4 a box for truffles at our fave chocolate shop and in reality it has been $17.25 each time. Yes. Four pieces of chocolate for $17.25. So we will be ceasing that behavior, pronto. After all... I am not the Queen of England. Not yet anyway. Maybe after my haircut they will find me irresistible and bequeath me the throne.

2 comments:

annie obrien gonzales said...

Oh Bethany, STOP, don't do it! I did the exact same thing when I moved to SF from Denver. First I went to a hipster salon and was treated like cr*p, thenI saw this guy's ad. I went in and got the worst, most expensive haircut I've ever had--and I was still treated like cr*p. I go to the Aveda salon out across from Target, I go to either Juan (the owner) or the woman with the super short blond hair. I've had good luck with them and they are no-drama types. Good luck! Annie

Bethany said...

Dammit Annie! Say it isn't so! Thanks for the word up... I guess I will see what else I can figure out. Maybe this is fate... maybe I am supposed to let my hair grow to 14 feet in length. Or maybe I should just let Billy cut it. That could produce some seriously interesting results.