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.)