In an effort to give you all something interesting to read, I decided to get my hair cut this morning.
See, there's this lady I met, and she showed up at soccer practice with gorgeous hair. When you move a lot, the only way to get a good haircut is to find someone with beautiful hair and demand that they give you the name of their hairdresser. So I asked, and she told me: Talented Salmon.
Well, it turns out his name is Samman, not Salmon. But don't you like it better the way I wrote it first?
She told me how to get there, and I tried, I really did. But alas - I got all tangled up in the streets of Sweifiyeh and gave up. So yesterday, when I saw gorgeous hair lady, I asked again. (Some say I'm persistent. Some say I'm annoying. Again, I go with the first description.)
She pulled out her cell, called up Mr. Fish, and the next thing I knew, I had an appointment for 10 am today.
This time I found him, but I had to call her from the road so she could talk me in - pesky left turns trick me every time.
Turns out Talented Salmon is, indeed, talented. He was like Edward Scissorhands on the clippers, and he took a good two inches off, more in places. I was getting nervous, but then he leaned in and looked closely at my hair. He asked, "this hair - it is your natural color under highlights, yes?" I nodded affirmatively. "Yes," he said. "It is beautiful, this hair. A beautiful color."
So, of course, I'm now a client for the next three years, right? No matter what happens to this beautiful hair of mine, I'm sold on Salmon.
It's a great cut I have now. It took all of 10 minutes. But then - then he pulled out the hair dryer. That took a long, long time, with clips, and rollers, and brushes galore.
Now? Now I look like a 70s porn star. I look like the Fourth Angel. I look kind of floozy-ish. I'd post a picture, but, well, let's just wait for the curl to die down a bit, shall we?
Instead, Here's a picture of the hair salon. Note that it's pink: those of you who are participating in this week's FS RoundUp will know what that means. And yes, I did have to go up those creepy stairs to get to his salon.