I apologize for making generalizations, but when I walked in and saw that her hair dresser was a non-gay man in his 60′s, I should have known that things were not going to go so well.
I told the man that I would just like something sleek and smooth…to pull the front of it back, perhaps with some nice little twists or something. My hair is really short now, especially in the back, so I didn’t think he would/could even consider doing anything else… I should have just up and run out the door when he said, “You know, I think that hair updos are like puzzles. This is going to be a really tricky puzzle…lucky for you, I love puzzles!”
Ummm…what??
As he rambled on about how he used to know Johnny Cash and about the upcoming RV trip that he had planned, I just tried to zone out. I saw curling irons and rubber bands and millions of bobby pins flashing around and I had to keep my eyes closed to avoid the fog of hairspray. This was NOT looking good.
Suddenly, it was over and he was politely asking for his $55. He didn’t even show me what it looked like from the back. The front looked decent-ish, but was not at alllllll what I had in mind. But, we were racing the clock, the wedding was in 2 1/2 hours, and I just wanted to get out of there and back home to my babies so we could all head to the church.
I got home, went into my bathroom, and this is what I saw:
OK, not awful, but not at all what I had decribed that I wanted, either. I ventured further in so that I could see the back using my closet door mirror and……
SWEET HEAVENS!!!
Is that a donut? A waterspout???
I didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry….so I did both. What was I going to do? I was supposed to be at the church immediately to take pictures, but I just knew that I looked ridiculous. I tried to tell myself that this was not my day, I was not the bride, it would be selfish to worry about it….but on the other hand, I was mortified and just knew I’d feel like hiding behind my flowers if I went with that funky mess on my head. My husband thought I was nuts and just mumbled something about “looks like all the wedding hair that I’ve ever seen” and was just in a hurry to get out the door. (he was the videographer and needed to get set up) In a panic, I called Rebecca-Linh (who was the photographer!! ). She was already at the church and I asked her what to do. She said that no one was ready yet and to get my arse in the shower – stat!
I’ve never scrubbed so furiously and quickly before. Bobby pins were flying as I plunked Bailey down in her bouncy seat next the the tub. I felt like an absolute mad woman as I sang silly songs at the top of my lungs to keep her happy while I frantically tried to de-goop my poor abused head of hair.
I showered, dried, and fixed my hair in record time and actually made it to the church with time to spare. I am disappointed that I completely blew $65 (did I mention that I tipped $10? ) but at least I have a fun wedding story to tell.
i’m sitting here… totally giggling- to full blown laughing. it just doesn’t get old.
please. resend this photo to me randomly 25 years from now. i promise i will laugh (and even leave a frantic voicemail)