At last my hair doesn't resemble a chocolate-dipped banana of which someone has eaten the chocolate off of the bottom half!
I had (and kept!) my highlight appointment this morning after the last fiasco. And it all went fine. It looks fine. The stylist did a fine job. And the place was fine. Not fabulous, but fine. Hmmm, how to describe the vibe there? Well, let's start with the music. I can't get Barry Manilow's "Mandy" out of my head. You get the idea?
Were they friendly, courteous and prompt? Did they listen to what I wanted? check, check, check check.
So why won't I go back?
I think it's kind of like dating, and I'm drawn to the bad boys of the hair world. Anyone who knows me in real life knows that when it comes to real life men, I'm so not a bad boy girl, but it's different with hair salons.
I want the salon to be snooty and bossy and think they know what's best for me. I want to feel like I have to impress them when I show up so I'll get the best service. I want to have to beg for them to fit me in for an appointment two months out. I don't want them selling themselves to me. I want to want them more than they want me because they have millions of others who will quickly take my place.
So while my hair is now majorly improved, and I had an overall good experience, my quest for the perfect salon will continue. And who knows, once I go through enough bad boys, maybe I'll decide that nice is after all what's best for me...and my hair.