Wednesday, 26 January 2011

Communication is key

My hairdresser has what I would call 'boundary issues' when it comes to my hair. When I decided to quit being bleached blonde because my hair was literally falling out of my skull in clumps (literally!) he was all 'ugh' and 'omg I hate it now' (after it'd been dyed back to auburn) (which. wow. You did it and I'm paying you like £80 for the privilege!) but I still love him because he's camp as fuck and has three children and is younger than me and all he talks about is his children and Twilight (I now know the entire plot of Twilight from being told the entire plot every eight weeks for months and months).

So. Last time I went in I asked for a fringe because I didn't feel weird enough just having 'normal' longish hair (I want my outsides to look as weird as I feel on the insides #teenangstyou'rewaytoooldfor) and I thought a short fringe would help with that issue. Anyway, I knew he would be weird about it. Because of the aforementioned boundary issues (that I still don't get because I PAY him to do my hair and then I'm the one that walks about with my hair on my head. He doesn't have to walk anywhere with my hair on his head! Unless he really wants to do that and saves up my hair cuttings to make a special sazzle wig but I think that oversteps the boundary from 'issue' into 'full blown psychotic episode' so hopefully he doesn't do that.)

Anyway. I walk in all fired up and after he asks the obligatory 'so what are we doing today' question I just lay my cards on the table 'I want a short fringe' and he makes this horrified face like he's just bitten into a lemon or has heard Lindsey Lohan is releasing a post-rehab album (in truth that's how I sold him on changing my hair colour from blonde to red 'I want to be less rehab Lohan and more Mean Girls Lohan' and he did visibly relax on hearing it after his near panic attack when I first broached the subject 'ohmigod, I knew you were gonna come in today and want to stop being blonde' [hyperventilating] 'I just knew it!'). Which is when I pulled the ace from my sleeve;
'like Katy Perry?' [show pre-prepared picture]
'ohmigod I love her fringe!' [visible sigh of relief. From us both]

Boom goes the dynamite.

In summary I can speak two languages really well. Camp gay man and under-8 year old. Which don't really have a lot in common but if you need help communicating with natives from either of these groups then I can be hired as an interpreter.

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