Another day at the hair salon... or so I hoped.
My hair color had been fading and the roots had been showing so I thought that today was a good day to have all of that stuff touched up. All is well until the new assistant from Brooklyn took me to the shampoo area to rinse out my hair dye. There's small talk about how he's newly imported from the east coast and how he currently lives in an apartment in downtown San Diego with a friend.
Then, the series of unfortunate events occur. I felt water. No, not the water on my head, but I felt water dribbling down the back of my shirt. Immediately after, I heard a loud splash. The water basin had clogged up due to an overlooked piece of cotton that the assistant hadn't removed from my scalp before shampooing. I franticly stood up because I was so startled and realize that water and remnants of hair dye were now dribbling down my entire back side.
The assistant, being new on the job, became overly apologetic and began to dry off the floor first. I, on the otherhand, was dripping wet and a little confused with I should do next. Run to the bathroom and ruin the salon with my hair dye dripping everywhere? Or, just stand very still and hope that someone would hand me a towel?
By this point, practically everybody at the salon rushed over to help me and the assistant when it dawned on me-- I realized that the white tank top that I had worn was now ruined because of the hair dye. But I thought, hey--no harm, no foul. I didn't really care that the hair dye had ruined my clothes or that my undergarments were soaking wet. I just felt bad for the new assistant's psyche.
After the floor was mopped and my clothes were put in the dryer (don't worry, I was wearing a robe), the assistant (still shell-shocked) proceeded with my shampoo session. He had already conditioned my hair when he muttered, "Oh, I don't think that I shampooed your hair yet." So he had to backstep to shampoo first, and then condition-- that's right, Haircare 101.
To top it all off, the entire time the assistant never got the water pressure quite right. The pressure was so strong that I kept wiping off the little splashes of water hitting my face and my eyes. I didn't have the heart to say anything to him because he was already so frazzled and fidgety from the the flood that had caused prophets like Noah to build an arc.
What matters to me is that he gave it his all and tried his best (and trust me, he was trying). In time little assistant, you will be the best shampooer ever.
To Make Anything at All
6 years ago
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