So a few months ago, I went to the Valley Fair Mall to buy a pair of jeans. I walked out of the Valley Fair Mall with a pair of jeans and a haircut. Risky, you may think, getting a mall cut, particularly at the Valley Fair Mall, which is a little bit W. T., if you know what I mean.
But the fact is that it was a great cut. I've loved my hair for the past couple of months. Sadly, it grows, so while it still looked cute, I knew it was time for another hair cut. Fortunately, my sister-in-law, Captain Mom, had a $20-off coupon for her hair stylist. I made an appointment and looked forward to my visit to a real salon (or hair design studio).
My hair cut began with an oil-head massage. So... you know how there's foods that you've never liked, and you keep trying them every few years or so to see if you like them yet? Lately, I've been thinking about signing up to get a massage because I've been stressed at work. The problem is that I really hate strangers touching me. But I thought maybe I could get over it and enjoy the massage. Well, judging by my oil-head massage, I'd have to say that I still have not developed a taste for strangers touching me unnecessarily. I'm shuddering just thinking back on it.
After I explained to the stylist what I wanted, she proceeded to cut my hair and make chit-chat, another part of the hair cutting process that I usually loathe. She asked me where I usually go for my hair cuts. I told her about my place in Provo, and explained that I'd only had my hair cut once since being in Salt Lake---and that it was at the mall. She kindof cringed right then and said, "Wow. You're brave. Which mall?" When I said, "Valley Fair Mall," I think that she almost passed out.
She quickly got over it and kept up with the chit chat. Like once, she asked me if I had a boyfriend. Two minutes later, she asked me if I had a boyfriend. I felt inclined at that moment just to make one up and see what she did in another two minutes when she asked again if I had a boyfriend and I gave her a different name.
Granted, my conversation with my mall cutter wasn't that much more intimate or entertaining. She told me about her dead-beat husband and his no-good friends. And although that sounds like it might be more interesting than repeatedly discussing my dating status, it wasn't.
By the end of the cut, I looked like a mom. Not that that's bad, all you mothers who are out there reading this, but you know what I mean. I'm only hoping that I'll be more pleased with the cut after I wash and style it myself. It was just interesting, as I left the salon, to think that my mall cut was actually a more positive experience. Maybe I've got a little W. T. in me after all.
DISCLAIMER: This is not to say that Captain Mom has poor taste in stylists. I always love CM's hair. I am reluctantly confident that my hair will turn out to be just fine tomorrow, and while I'm debating whether to go back to this stylist (meaning there's a very slight chance), I do appreciate CM for looking out for me and encouraging me to explore options beyond Valley Fair Mall.