Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Dry Like a Desert

I met Mario by way of a friend of a friend of Hellion’s. He liked the look of my hair and recommended I schedule an appointment. I asked if he wouldn’t mind instead if I scheduled one for myself and my lady love. He was happy with it and an appointment was booked for her birthday.

I was asked what I wanted to do with my hair, which is pretty much the stupidest thing in the world to ask me. It’s hair. I like to wash it and dry it. That is about it. I’ve given up on trying to make it rainbow colors as it feels like work. Basically being in Korea for 12 years made going to a salon for anything seem weird. Also, I remember that the last time I went to have the color in my hair touched up, the Koreans died my hair purple black. Had I needed a nail in the lid of a salon-shaped coffin that accomplished the task nicely. However, my lady love has not issues with salons and I knew she’d enjoy being able to speak English to a hairdresser.

I looked up the menu of things the salon did. It actually had a menu. There were words on the menu in English. I’m sure I knew all the words. I had no idea what any of them meant.

So while she was still in Korea I asked “What do you want done to your hair? The hairdresser wants to know.”

“Tell him my hair is thirsty.”

I think to myself, Like a plant?

“Okay.”

“Probably just a cut, a wash and a gloss treatment.”

I have no idea what any of that means after cut.

“Got it.”

I communicated these things to the hairdresser who said he totally understood and our appoint kept itself nice and warm until the Artist finally arrived.

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