In case you're wondering why I didn't post a photo of the newly tamed tresses from Hair Appointment #1...do I have a story for you. Friday was the first hair appointment and weigh in. I headed to the salon late Friday afternoon. Well, I say "salon" but it was really a little room in the back of a hookah lounge. That's right. A hookah bar. John, my hairdresser emeritus, is in the process of changing salons. The lease was up on his old place and now he's building bigger and better. But in the meantime, it means a little room in the back of his BFF's hookah bar. I have to say...it was my first time in Hookahville. And definitely my first time in a Hookahville hair salon.
But just like a bad infomercial, I have to tell you..."But wait, there's more." I get to the door of Hookahville to find that John hasn't arrived yet. And apparently 2:30 in the afternoon is too early for the Hookahtribes to get their smoke on, so the door was locked. So I turned around to run - sprint - to the car and the promise of AC in 101 degree Pasadena...and bam! I feel like I'm on the Tilt-A-Whirl at Joy Land. Except there's no one around to stop the ride. It just keeps spinning and spinning. So, I barely make it to the car...in a vacant parking lot sandwiched between the hookah lounge and a seedy place called the Rancho Bar. I set the AC to arctic and wait for the ride to stop. 20 minutes later, John shows up. He approaches the car with a big grin on his face, happy to see me and obviously unaware of my plight. My shrill, high-pitched distress call warning "don't touch me or my head's gonna spin around!" wipes that grin right off his face and sends him scampering inside to set up.
45 minutes past the time my hair appointment was supposed to start, I'm ready to give it a go. But I have to call John on his mobile and ask him to come outside and help me in. The horror. My cute party-in-the-front-business-in-the-back hair guru has to walk me into his hip hair hookah like a geriatric patient.
But wait, there's more. Have you ever been on a Tilt-A-Whirl? Or the Tea Cups at Disney World? Then you know what I mean when I say I was green afterwards. Not a pretty seafoam, honeydew or celery green. No. It was more like a cross between boiled okra and French's spicy brown mustard. And there I sat, trying my best not to tip over or bend and send the breakfast that brought me...as John began to build a fleet of foils on my soon-to-be highlighted head. I am not exaggerating when I say what I hoped would be a momentous occasion turned out to be two-and-a-half of the most excruciating hours I've ever spent. And because I was 45 minutes late, it meant I had to leave the salon - I mean hookah bar - with a wet head. No big hair blow out for me.
But don't fret none...I'm going to live! I've had 48 hours to bedazzle, beautify and blow dry. I'm going to live to see another day, another hair appointment (or five), and 53 more pounds. But here's hoping Hair Appointment #2 is a little less eventful! PS...Good thing I have a genius photographer and partner-in-crime at work. She'll take glamour shots (minus the green glow) this week for me to post. Stay tuned!