The Strange Hair Day

The day started off well enough. I'd gotten money someone owed me, with which I bought a shirt a friend designed, which turned out to be the very last one, and on top of that, I'd managed to make a costume prop out of random stuff I bought at the mall. I'd reminded the girl I'd rented a wig from that morning that I was using it that night instead of yesterday like I'd told her when we last saw each other, so I asked if I could get it. Apparently, she hadn't taken it from the girl who rented it before me yet. Later, she texted that the girl couldn't be reached.

This lead to a series of unanswered phone calls, phones being shut off, weird text messages, hurried jeepney rides, would-have-been taxi rides, a potentially empty wallet, etc etc etc

I needed the wig for a shoot I was doing. I'd already paid for the wig, excited that I didn't have to cut my hair (that I'd been growing so paintakingly for several months).

But by 3pm, both renter AND rentee turned their phones off and I was left extremely frustrated and angry and left with no other choice than to cut my hair. I was thinking, if you want something done properly, there are things you have to give up.

Calltime was at 5pm, so I went off to ayala to find a hairdresser who could do the hairstyle. It was one suited for straight hair. I had wavy poofy hair, and I needed to know what sort of temporary treatment my hair would have to undergo to get the hairstyle I wanted. Most salons had waitlists, except for David's. So off I went, to wait for the stylist they called Mr. Collins (or something that began with a "c" and sounded english). The dude was bald and asian, and he started talking to me in a strange accent in english, so i thought he couldve been Singaporean or something non-filipino, like Bridges' stylist. So I responded in english. I told him I wanted a duck tail at the back, and bangs that framed my face.

He didn't understand what I meant. He suggested I get a semi-rebond. When I said I wasn't getting one, he frowned and walked off. Another hairdresser came up to me and said we could just set my hair for the meantime, and then cut it the way I wanted, etc etc. I said okay, and sat down. Mr C came back to cut my bangs, and then left.

I was waiting for him to come back to do the ducktail. But he didn't. I asked the attendant about it when Mr C came back, insisting in tagalog that my hair was curly, there was no way he could cut my hair short etc etc etc.

We had a little argument in the store, where he started speaking Cebuano. If you're a hairdresser and you're reading this, please don't be condescending to your customers, and if you don't understand what they want, try to talk to them about it instead of pretending as if you do.

I left in a huff, refusing their offer for a shampoo, went to the parlor across the street from my boarding house, and got my hair done exactly the way it should have looked at half the price David's would have asked.

It was of course, one thing to have the hair styled and ironed out, and I was still afraid the hair would turn out into a nightmare once the wax was off. After the shoot was over, I was at a friend's house for a party he threw his daughter. I washed my hair, dried it and let them take pichurs.

I think it looks great. Eat that Mr C :P