I’m getting my hair done today!
For most women this is a joyful day. A time to look forward to where one can relax and unwind. For most people going to the salon feels like this:
And then there is me.
I think I’m the only person in the world that can’t stand going to the hair salon. As soon as I walk up to the receptionist, my anxiety creeps in and I turn into this:
I look at the sterile rows of salon chairs and feel like I’m making a slow long walk to my death at an electric chair. I want to be excited, I’m coming here to be beautified! If only I could sit in the chair, read a book, and get done what I’m paying to get done.
Simply put, I hate small talk.
Don’t get me wrong – I love my stylist. She’s very sweet. She remembers tid bits about my life and we usually catch up on what is new in each other’s lives. She also does an awesome job with my color!!!
However, this “catch up” usually lasts all of 5 minutes. I then feel like I’m scraping the edges of a steel barrow for something to talk about. Even while they are blow drying your hair, stylists seem to feel the need to shout questions at you. I have no desire to scream back to her about the weather or my shoes or what is on TV tonight. It’s already so loud with all the blow dryers, extroverted chit chat, and bad music. Why is silence at a salon so unheard of? I just want to curl up in a ball!
I’m been itching for a change in my hairstyle lately. I’m thinking of going a little shorter – something like this:
However, I know that as soon as I sit down in that chair I’m going to clam up and say, “just a little trim please!” Because the other times I’ve tried to say what I want, it usually turns into something the opposite of what I want. And, No, I do not want to buy $40 product! No matter what you say, it WILL make my hair greasy!
The only calm time at the salon is when my color is setting for about 20 minutes or the 2 blissful minutes of the scalp massage. Ah, quiet peaceful joy.
I also say I can just go home with my hair wet as it usually takes around twenty minutes to dry my long hair. That twenty minutes usually ends up feeling like an hour. I usually close my eyes so it looks like I’m asleep and I can avoid shout talking over the blow dryer. I just can’t wait to get the hell outta there!
After paying the too large fee, I push open the doors with a big smile and take first non shallow breath I’ve had for over two hours. Time to go home and watch the Halloween special of Pretty Little Liars with a glass of wine while smelling how lovely my beautiful fresh hair looks!!!!! (I know, huge nerd alert).
Anyone else have salon anxiety? It can’t be just me, right?!