Not To My Hair, You Don't

I have tried to keep my new haircut in it’s Tera-given pristine condition. I have failed.

I went on one of the water rides at the Circus Circus theme park, and yes, shocker, got wet. Specifically, got my hair wet. Bugger.

Now technically, and with the benefit of hindsight, it would have been fine until I got to Michigan. It was only a little splash, and only I would know that Tera’s handiwork had been defaced. But I wanted to do something all about me – because the rest of this trip totally hasn’t been – so I went in search of a hair salon.

The one in my hotel was undergoing renovations, so that was out. I decided on the closest hotel to mine, because it’s a wash and a blow dry, how bad could it be?

Pretty damn bad.

After wandering around the Riviera, and down many long and increasingly narrow corridors, I finally found the “beauty” “salon.” I walked in, and was greeted by a woman having her nails done. I said Hi back and scanned the price list to see if they even offered what I was after. They did. Then the woman was all, “Can I help you?” and I was all, “Wash and blow dry?” and she was all, “Now?” and I was all, “Yes, please,” and she was all, “THANK GOD.” And then I was all, “What the fuck?” and also a little, “Hmm, crap.”

So the one woman washed my hair – none too gently – while the other one watched from the counter.

Washer: I’m going to put some conditioner in it, ok?
Me: [Duh, doesn’t everybody?] Yep, that’s fine.
Washer: You usually use conditioner?
Me: [Duh, doesn’t everybody?] Yep.
Washer: Ok, I’ll put some in. *Puts conditioner in.* That will be an extra ten dollars, of course.
Me: [WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?!] Um, okay.
Watcher: *Says something I can’t hear, my head being under water, and also me being still slightly stunned.*
Washer: She says you need a pedicure, too.

Now, I am the first to admit the job I did on my nails before BlogHer was pretty sub-par, and walking up and down the Strip for two days in the dust and the dirt wasn’t helping matters, but seriously?

I laughed it off, told them I wasn’t need of one right at that second (Them: “Maybe tomorrow”), and got transferred to the Watcher who would straighten my hair.

First off, she pulled out a brush that looked like she bought it from Kmart. In the kids’ section. With the pink glitter hair clips and the neon shoelaces or whatever. And brushed out all my tangles (and there were a lot). Again, seriously? Now I’m not saying you can’t ever put a brush to wet hair, but straight up, no product, no drying at all, and you’re going to drag a brush though my hair?

Then she put some product in, clipped my hair up, and stuck me under one of those drying things. Guys, come on, you’re not even trying here. When Tera did my hair, she did all the blow-drying AND she’s pregnant AND it was uphill in the snow both ways. Don’t be so lazy.

Once she decided I was cooked enough, she bought me back to the chair, pointed the hair dryer at my hair, and waved it around a little. I think we all learned on Grad Night (well, you guys didn’t, cos The Ranch wasn’t around then, but the hairdresser at Rydges totally did) that you can’t do that with my hair. You need to be very specific with it, and do bits at a time. When she got sick of the waving around, she pulled out a chunk from the bottom and started blow-drying it straight using her Kmart brush (not even a round Kmart brush, either). She stopped and made it a smaller chunk, and when she decided that still wasn’t working, she pulled out a straightener.

This one came with a My Little Pony set, I think. It was pink, and plastic, and while I have no problem with either of these things in theory, I feel they have little place in a professional hair salon.

And then she applied the straightener to my dripping wet hair. Which sizzled.

It was about this time that I “remembered” I had to meet my friends for lunch or cocktails or something, anything, and I left. I paid for the wash, neglecting to leave a tip, because I’m Australian and we don’t do that here.

Or possibly because I thought they sucked.