The Aliens Have Landed!

I went to the hairdresser yesterday. I used to only go once a year and it was an experience to hate and fear. I could never understand why a young, bored trainee would insist on dragging the comb of torture through my limp hair to get the tangles out when the 'proper' hairdresser was going to hack it all off anyway. I'd sit there with my eyes watering trying not to scream and I swear there was only a few strands left to work with after that. Everything yanked out of my head was either in the plughole, blocking the drains (serves them right!) or all over the floor. On reflection, I'd quite like to be a trainee hairdresser to be able to inflict pain and misery on a few people!

I go there every five to six weeks these days. It is painless unless you count the price. I always tell my usual lady to cut it how it would look in two weeks time. I don't want to look like I've just been to the hairdresser! I don't think she was concentrating yesterday and when I got home I was horrified to discover I had that surprised 'I've just escaped from an asylum' look. My eyebrows and fringe had clearly had an argument and decided to separate. I will stay in the house until next spring now (possibly).

I took that picture in a hurry as it was unusually quiet when I went in. There was no one at the sink end of the salon so I quickly got my camera out. I've only sat with my head in one of those things once, about 20 years ago when I had a perm! I've always thought those strange domes were something to be scared of. When I was very little, I imagined people had their brains stolen while under there. I think I was right actually, hearing some of them talk on the way out.

I think hairdressers are from another world, possibly...Life On Mars