What the heck just happened?

I swear to you, a scene out of American Horror Story just went down in the JC Penney salon.  What the crap Batman.

I went to 97 different places (okay, 3) to get a hair cut because I was desperate.  I knew there was no point in calling 'my lady' because she is so awesome that she is always booked.  All three places I went were 'salons' and they all advertised 'walk-ins welcome'.  Well, all I gots to say is.... don't advertise what you clearly cannot deliver.  I could call those salons out but honestly what is the point.  I will probably eventually forgive them all and go back one day.

I find myself dialing JC Penney salon.  Don't judge.  There is a guy there that has cut the girls hair several times and has done a fantastic job, very professional, very likable.  So a young woman answers the phone, we will call her Chaos from this point forward.  Chaos has some sort of speech impediment, which hey, I'm down, I can't say my r's and w's either.  Chaos gets all my info and says 'I'll cut you now'.  Well, little did I know that she meant that in the literal sense.  Anyway, on with the story.

I need to side track here and say my hair has not been cut in nearly a year.  It is down to my waist and it is stringy and dead on the ends.  I just honestly do not take the time or spend the money on myself like that.  So I knew when I went in there that I was probably going to get a good 3-4" cut off, easily.  I attempted to sit down in Chaos' chair but it was shoved so far close to her work station that I could not fit.  I had to ASK her to please move the seat back because it wouldn't even turn to let me in.  She obliged.  I sat.  She takes my hair out of my bun that is piled on top of my head and says 'okay what do you want done'.  I proceed to tell her that I would like long layers and side swept bangs.  I TOTALLY regret the bangs comment as soon as it is out of my mouth.  What the hell was I thinking.

At this point we leave her work station and go to the hair washing area.  Chaos sprays me down with water, my back, my forehead, I'm dripping.  I take a deep breath because I can see, I can feel that something is just not complete with this woman.  Okay, I'm good.  We can get through this.  She begins to pat my head instead of scrub it.  When I say pat I mean like you would 'pat' your animal.  I had my hair washed, I mean patted and she handed me a towel and said 'here you go' and walked off.  Okay at this point, I'm not sure if I should dry my own hair or run at 90 mph straight out the door.  Well my dumb self left my glasses at her station so I couldn't see my hand in front of my face much less see enough to bolt for the door.

I go sit at Chaos' station.  I know this is not going to go well but I am STILL giving her the benefit of the doubt because she is trying and God love her.....I don't know what the politically correct term is but something is going on with her mentally.  So, I know what your thinking because I was thinking it too, 'Traci, you are about to let this woman put scissors to your head and cut your 8 feet long hair'.

Her first question to me was 'what kind of layers do you want'.  Is their an option?  I don't know.  I always say 'do whatever you think is best' because you are the professional hair cutter person and since you are employed I'm going to ASSume you know what you are doing.  I get offended when people tell me how to cook so I just try to remember that when I'm talking to a 'professional'.  WELL, well, well....ya know what they say about ASSumptions don't ya??  Unhuh.  Fail.  She begins to question me about different angles to cut my hair.  She did not find my 'I hate math' joke appropriate when I said 'hey, I'm not the one to be asking about angles'.  I finally just said, layers, just long layers.  I have no idea what the appropriate way to describe it is besides 'long layers'.  I pull a picture up on Pinterest and she nods so we are on the same page.

Chaos cuts my hair nearly 20 minutes but nothing appears to be changing.  She pulls her hand up and I hear her say 'oh'.  My heart sank.  To the ground.  I just knew she had cut a chunk out of my hair or something.  She RUNS away.  Oh dear sweet baby Jesus.  She comes back and continues on.  She drops my hair again (the entire time flicking me in the face with wet hair).  Runs away again.   At this point I turn around and see what should be a massive amount of hair on the ground is no more than the amount that would come off a mans head while only shaving behind his ears.  NOSE hair...it looks like nose hair on the ground.  She comes back this time with a glove on her hand. OHHHHHHHHH I see, you cut yourself.  She pulls my hair up AGAIN and that is when the blood drips down her hand right by my face and onto the floor...drip, drip, drip.  Any of you that KNOW me, knows my distaste for blood, my utter fear of blood.  I am one more drop of blood away from a total melt-down fashioned panic attack.  The tears start to well up in my eyes on top of the wavering spots I'm seeing.  I start taking huge gulps because I cannot suck in enough air at this point and once I actually get the air in I'm not exactly sure what to do with it.

The man that works there (and the only other person in the store) comes by and sees that I'm about to go down into complete meltdown mode, he says 'whats going on' to Chaos.  Chaos says, 'Oh nutting, just call me the one gloved stylist'.  Um, come again.  I immediately turn the chair around and said 'she has been cutting my hair for 20 minutes and there isn't anything to show for it, she is bleeding ALL over the place and I'm leaving'.  He asks if he can please finish the cut and sends me to his chair.  He finishes the cut and it looks great.  Chaotic but great.

I should have waited it out at the first shop that told me to come back in a couple of hours.

For the love.

                                                         Patience is a virtue.
                                                                 Traci