Too sexy for their hair

I've been needing (badly needing) to go to a hairdresser for a while now. Today, I finally got the chance. This, I can tell you, is a treat for many a woman, but it acquires just a little more importance if you don't often get gratuitous pamper-time. And if you are prematurely gray like I am.

Anyways - I went to a local hairdresser and I was told there would be at least a two hour wait. This would not do. I then drove into Antwerp, thinking I'd go to some funky hairdresser and get the best haircut ever. I went to this place I know from a few years ago (when I was still funky and young). I walked in there, and straightaway I got the "up and down" look. I should have turned around and left at this point.

I told them I wanted a colour and a cut, and they sat me down. At this point, I asked some advice on which colour and which cut they might think was suitable. The rolled eyes! The "don't you know what you want"s! I even got two "you're not the type of person to want this"es when I mentioned a style I like. (Those really pissed me off.) I was getting a tad crabby by this point. The guy started to put Vaseline around my hairline (prevents my skin from becoming all brown) and got a girl to come with a colour chart.

Then, together, they started badmouthing my old hairdresser (the lovely Toni) who used to work there. I told them I wasn't sure which colour I wanted, and could they maybe advise me on my new hairstyle, and maybe the colour as well. They told me that colour has nothing to do with hairstyle, and they'd just make my hair a chocolate colour if I couldn't be bothered to pick a colour. The girl walked off with a huge speechbubble over her head saying "whatever, old lady" to get the hair colour.

By this time, I was fuming. I told them I'm a customer and I want some advice, so could they please at least be polite. The girl's reply? "The customer may be king, but we are the emperor." (I kid you not.) Now both of them were telling me that something personal must have happened to me before I walked in the shop, and they can't help it if I have personal issues. Yes, seriously. My hair was all brushed out by now, and my head covered in Vaseline, but I just walked out. I told them they should not treat people this way. I don't think they got it.

One good thing that came out of this: not much further into town, I found my lovely old hairdresser Toni, who gave me a great haircut, and never once implied I wasn't cool enough for his shop. I think I know why he left the other one, though.

(Also: While I was getting my hair coloured, the girl from the other shop walked by and laughed at me!)