One day at the hair dressers I had 3 people attend to my hair.
My usual hairdresser was on maternity leave, so I had one woman tint my hair, shampoo and condition it too, and this was then followed by another woman who trimmed my hair. Then there was a hand over to dry my hair after my trim. A male hairdresser, he took over this task and he asked me if I minded him drying my hair. I didn’t mind. Of course not. I’ve seen him in the salon countless of other times before, tending to other customers, so I wasn’t concerned. Why would I be?
So I said that he will just be drying my hair, what harm was there in that? He thought I was being funny and he chucked out a laugh. In conversation with me, he shared an account about wanting to buy a dog. As he was sharing his thoughts and feelings about buying a new dog, he said that he was really keen on buying a Labradoodle, but because he and his wife have never owned a dog before, he said that he was a little concerned about how they’d handle owning a dog, but this didn’t stop him from being very keen on buying a dog.
I told him how I owned a toy Cavoodle. As he listened to my account of my dog, he got more and more excited about the prospect of owning one himself, and again, he said that he would definitely be getting a Labradoodle now. I mentioned how a Cavoodle, and a Labradoodle are very similar breeds sharing the same temperament, relationship with others, and in how they are managed overall, etc.
He was drying my hair and talking at the same time, as hairdressers do, and envisioning himself with a Labradoodle, when out of the blue, he started patting my head really hard as if he were patting a dog on it’s head. At first I wasn’t sure what the hell he was doing. I had an inner giggle at him as I saw how dreamy his eyes looked as he imagined himself with a Labradoodle. The hard pat on my head was a just a reflex coming from his dreams. He continued talking and within less than a minute he again began patting my head really hard, only this time, the patting on my head was starting to hurt me now, and I asked him to please stop patting my head so hard, because it was hurting me.
He suddenly stopped and apologised profusely. He was so embarrassed. He’d realised he’d gotten carried away with his dreams of owning a dog, and so to not make him feel too bad about it, I told him that I was sure Elmer Fudd didn’t like Bugs Bunny’s treatment of him neither.
Well, that made everyone present laugh out loud, and again he was very apologetic. His wife came to my rescue and sent him away to please go and have a break. More apologies bestowed upon me, as I said it was OK and that he meant no harm, and not to worry about it.
He was out of sight for a short minute. (Yeah I know, I minute is a minute. It’s neither short or long. Humour me please!) As his wife dried my hair, the lady that cut my hair came over and took over from her, and again, more apologies. She looked at my hair and said that it wasn’t her style of drying someone’s hair but anyway, who was she to comment. She got her scissors and started thinning down some of the ends of my hair, because she didn’t want my hair to look like it had sharp obvious cuts and wanted my hair to look naturally blended in at the layers. She did a good job of it, I think? I’ll know for sure after I wash my hair again and dry it; because often times that’s the best way to know for sure if you’ve had a good hair cut or not. Hmm. I think so?
Meanwhile, as she’s blending in my layers with the hair thinner, she’s also intermittently brushing off my face, using a thick bristle brush to remove any excess hair off it, and the brushing off wasn’t all that gentle. I didn’t make a fuss about it. Yet, it felt like a hard dab; as if you’d be painting on a rough canvas doing dabs on it for special effect, lol. So while she worked on my hair, the man comes back again from a room out of sight, and asks me if I was feeling OK, and again he said that he was very sorry for his heavy handedness, and are we still friends? I said yes we’re still friends, but he is NOT to dry my hair ever again. He promised he wouldn’t come anywhere near me again as he walked away like a scolded child being asked to go and sit in the corner somewhere, until further notice. The look on his wife’s face was not impressed.
This is a family business, he is also a qualified hair dresser, and he should never allow his thoughts and feelings (dreams) to get carried away into the nether land, especially while drying a customers hair, lol. No harm done. But seriously. It wasn’t intentional. I understood this. He simply was dreaming away in the glory of dog heaven dreams while not focused and not fully present on the task at hand. The whole situation was very funny though, even if my poor head copped it.
Anyway, with my hair trimmed, styled and coloured, I got up and walked to the counter to pay, and the wife said that because my hair is a lot longer now than it ever was (I’ve been a customer of theirs for some time now) it would cost me an extra $10. What? As soon as she said this, I said out loud, ’Here we go…‘ shaking my head at the same time totally appalled over the extra charge. If anything, I would’ve thought that due to the hair drying fiasco that she would’ve given me a discount as an expression of remorse and embarrassment for her husbands sake. But no. That was not going to happen. It’s OK. It’s a business. I get it. Prices will go up. I should’ve been informed about the $10 price hike upfront, though. Don’t you think? I wasn’t.
This up pricing situation seems to be a recurring theme with most of the hairdressers that I’ve frequented. I should remember to ask before I take my seat if the price is still the same as last time, or better still, ask when making my appointment. They’ve all done this to me though. Charged me more at the counter after the event. Hmm… Not happy. And yes, my hair grows fast! Still, I have my limit and when it is reached, I’ll find myself a new hairdresser, or I’ll cut my hair real short again.
I walked out of the hairdresser with a sore head, and feeling gobsmacked to be honest. As I drove home, I replayed the whole scenario in my head, (mental note, no dreaming while driving) and it made me laugh. I thought the whole situation was funny, but not the $10 price hike. Of course not!
Some men don’t realise how heavy handed they are, especially on a woman.
PS: Should a hairdresser read this, please note that this is not written to offend you, but more to highlight how at a moments notice, a sequence of events can bring out the funnies in each of us. And yes, please, consider toning down the cost of your services! Thank you.
Amazing isn’t it? Amazing how it is now the 1st day of Jan 2017.
I remember thinking as a young teen that 2017-2020 was so far into the future that for sure by then we’d all be flying cars (just like the Jetson’s ) and communicating with aliens, or even sharing our planet with them (like that would work, consider how we can’t even share it well with each other!). I even remember thinking that we’d catch a few rides with them on their fancy spaceships and get to vist their worlds in awe and in wonder that they exist and that we’d be actually in their ships flying there. Then after some further thought I discounted the thoughts of aliens and space travel and very quickly I thought it’s best if they don’t know where we are. I mean. What if they’re sinister and not friendly? (War of the Worlds comes to mind) etc., I decided I’d settle for the flying cars and sky high residence way up into the stratosphere. Ahh I think that was a safer option. Maybe? Hee hee.
And well, it is now 2017 and none of these things exist, yet. So yeah. The imagination of my teens was way ahead of myself, I think, and it was just some fanciful futuristic thoughts that were neither here nor there, if you know what I mean?
At midnight, I watched the Sydney fireworks on the television and then when it was all done, I promptly took myself to bed.
And of course, I had to start thinking about NYE, didn’t I? I thought about how much hype goes into a calendar day such as NYE, Christmas and Easter, and how much effort is put into it each and every event across the world by event organisers. It amazes me how each year, for a brief moment in time, most of us will gather together somewhere expecting some free entertainment, such as fireworks or balloons, or whatever it is that gets thrown up into the air, so that we can all cheer, smooch, hug, and whistle off the year that went by only seconds before.
And what about the litter that is left behind? All over the world, people leave their litter all over the place with no regard to it, and they seem to behave the same way everywhere. What makes them think it is OK to leave their rubbish on the ground for someone else to clean up after them? Shame! Is this how we thank the organisers for all their efforts? Surely we can all do a lot better than that?
Anyway, I was at home, in front of the television, watching it all unfold before my eyes.
I went to watch Versailles Treasures from the Palace at the National Gallery of Australia (NGA) in Canberra today. My visit here today was part of an agreed meet up with some friends, and as often is the case with me, when I go to an event like this I’m never too sure about what I should expect. And so…
When I arrived at the gallery I was greeted at the parking gate with a ‘Full’ sign. I was not impressed Nelly, I thought! Then again, I wasn’t overly surprised neither. I had people waiting in line behind me, and I had to signal them to reverse back so I could get out. Luckily, reversing back out wasn’t such a drama and everyone was complaint and made room for me to get out, even though I’ve no doubt that they weren’t overly amused about it. I had the option of waiting it out at the gate though, I could’ve waited until a car exited the car park and then I’d be let in. I couldn’t be bothered waiting around for the gate to open, even though it might’ve been best had I stayed and waited a minute or two, but little Ms Impatient that I can be I just wanted to be on time to meet up with my group of friends. After I reversed out I went for a drive around the block and back; like I mentioned earlier, I should’ve been patiently waiting at the gate, and then I went and parked behind the John Gorton Building. Plenty spots there! Damn it. Paid parking. Arrghh. It’s like a sword poking my side, I’m telling you. Having access to free parking is a major thing for me! A thing of the past I know, but seriously, it’s ouch costly.
I walked into the gallery and waited for my friends at the top of the elevators. Hmm. Where are they? I was perfectly on time. I waited and waited (this seemed like forever) and then I spotted one of them, and then another and another, and before I knew it we were all together. Yeah!
Inside the Versailles exhibition I was greeted by (1) paintings, intricate tapestries, gilded furniture items, monumental statues and other objects from the royal gardens, and personal items from Louis XIV to Marie Antoinette.
It was splendid.
What can I say? I’m not a fan of crowds, they annoy me at the best of times and because of this I didn’t allow myself the time to relish in each and every item as I would otherwise, because it was hard reading some of the notes and hard to get too close to see the fine details of some of the items. Crowds of people have a way of blocking my view. It’s very annoying. So I walked through the exhibition admiring as many of the items on display as I could, and then I found myself with one of my friends close by and where were the others, where did they go? They were behind me somewhere.
At one point I took a photo of a painting with my iPhone and the flash went off alarming one of the gallery guards to come running up to me and reprimanding me for having flashed the flash, stating that the ‘flash’ was not allowed. Ooops. I apologised.
As it turned out, the photo I took with the flash looks awful and grainy, the flash made it look horrible and green like. So I went into the settings of my iPhone and removed the flash option and chanced another photo shoot without a flash and this time, it came out splendid.
I had a giggle though. As I was being told off about my flash light going off, a woman close by approached me asking me if I could please help her change her settings and remove her flash from her phone. I looked at her and at her phone and it wasn’t an iPhone. What do I know about androids? Nothing. (Cough, cough. Not true, of course I can navigate through those things). So I apologised to her about not being able to help her. I told her a white lie. Of course I could help her, but chose not to. I know. Please don’t crucify me! I just didn’t want to be standing there in a semi dark room trying to figure out how to change her flash setting from her android, which would’ve taken up my time to enjoy the exhibition and taken up my time to get back to my car on time before I would get booked. I was in a hurry (sorta). She didn’t look impressed. Err excuse me! Did I have a sign over my head that said, ‘android technician here at your service’? No!
It wasn’t long thereafter that I walked out of there and my friend and I headed up to the cafe, a welcome reprieve let me tell you. I sent a text message to one of the other friends and let them know I was inside the cafe with our friend. They soon all made their way to us and we spent a lovely hour chatting until we got up and left for the day. (I know, I know! I said earlier that I was in a hurry when I chose not to help that helpless woman with her android… Priorities!) Now I feel bad. Damn it. I should’ve helped her. Grr. I’m so sorry lady! Drops my head down in shame.
Overall what did I think of the Versailles exhibition?
I thought it was spectacular. It is definitely worth a visit if you can make it. I loved the grandeur of the paintings and the sculptures, the fine detail in the drawings and the intricate tapestries filled with lots of colours and the fine details which for me seemed it would take an eternity to create. The gilded furniture items such as the Hunting table with a map of Compiègne 1737 is very reminiscent of a time long past and very regal nevertheless, and the monumental statues such as the Bust of Louis XIV 1665–66 depicted the face of a king responsible for the largest palace ever built.