Taming the Beast - Getting My Haircut

On Thursday I got my first hair cut since moving to London.  I'd been putting it off for quite a long time.  I don't really like anyone cutting my hair except for Denise at The 2nd Floor Salon.  Its not that I'm particularly finicky about my hair, I'm not.  I've just had some bad hair cutting experiences when I don't go to Denise.

Exhibit A: Free haircut I got freshman year for being a "hair model".  Affectionately known as "the dyke spike"  

Took me about 6 months to grow it out enough that my friends wouldn't just stare at me and laugh.  True story.

But I decided that the beast was getting out of control and so I finally booked in appointment.  When I showed up the girl took my hair down and frowned as if she just pulled the short stick on clients for the day.  I tried to explain that I was growing it out for Locks of Love but they don't do that here.  So she continued frowning and set me off to the hair washer.

This is confusing because my hair dresser washes my hair in America, but in Britain this is a separate job.  The hair-washer started washing my hair and then asked me if I wanted conditioner.  Uh - yes?  I mean why wouldn't I want conditioner?!  Does it cost more?  So she put some conditioner in and then asked if I wanted a head massage.  I mean yes I WANT a head massage but who doesn't and why are you asking?  Is it complimentary?  I said yes anyways.  It was free and it was a good head massage.  But jeez are all these questions necessary?

Then I went back to my hairdresser and she did my hair.  She did a good job, but wasn't very friendly.  I took a selfie so you can see.  Paris Hilton smile and peace sign.  I am that girl.