It is no secret that I have not been feeling attractive lately.
Between my growing belly, my limp (the result of a swollen limb) and a
gross lack of sleep, I am beginning to look more like a mutated pregnant
zombie. Even if I don't look like a mutated pregnant zombie, I
certainly have been feeling like one!
Yesterday
afternoon, I was motivated both to unwind and to beautify, so I headed
out to get my hair cut and colored. Long overdue for some pampering and
primping, I was looking forward to feeling somewhat presentable again. I
drove to the salon, checked in with the receptionist and sat in the
not-so-comfortable and slightly odoriferous waiting lounge.
I
continued to wait nearly 20 minutes past my scheduled appointment. I
went back up to the receptionist to learn that my hairstylist was
"running errands" but I was assured that she would return shortly. When I
resumed my position in the lounge, another customer asked what I
learned. Apparently she had an appointment scheduled before me with the
same stylist and had been waiting even longer than I.
Trying
to channel my inner calm and to remain true to my "stay calm" vow was
becoming difficult. After waiting for five more minutes, I decided to
become proactive. I contained my natural compulsion to make a scene and
opted instead to look after myself. I calmly approached the receptionist
again and asked to borrow their phone book.
Using
her desk, I laid the book out and looked up the telephone number for
the salon next door. I pulled out my cell phone and placed the call.
After explaining that I was in their competitor's establishment waiting
for an AWOL stylist, they quickly fit me into the schedule. I grabbed my
coat, a handful of Hershey kisses from their bowl, and headed out the
door. The staff appeared stunned. Perhaps they are more accustomed to a
ranting and vocal customer rather than one who simply makes a stand by
taking her business elsewhere.
#100happydays My new cut and color! (And my monkey jammies make me happy too.)
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