she did, and I have a surprise for you.”
Uh oh. I’m not sure I like the sound of that particular statement.
“I thought about all the pictures, right?”
I wait for Stacy to continue, but she doesn’t until I nod my head in agreement.
“Well!” She exclaims. “I put the lot together inside my brain.” At this point she taps the side of her head while I carry on staring at her via the mirror’s reflection. “I’ve invented a bridal style for you that includes the lot!”
What can she mean; includes the lot? Does she think I want all of the bridal hair style combined into one? “Um…” I mumble. “I don’t think that’s quite what I had in mind. Could we just try out the looks separately first?”
“What on earth for?” Stacy takes a comb from the shelf and gets to work on my hair. “Once I show you this style you won’t want me to do another!”
I’m inclined to believe her on that point. I don’t want her to do my hair at all, let alone any other styles if she’s not going to do as I ask. Oh well, this is actually a complimentary visit from Tina, as she’s a friend. I guess I’m going to have to let Stacy have her way. If I don’t like it though, I’ll be honest regardless of whether or not I’m getting my hair done for free.
Yank.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.”
Pull.
I hiss through my teeth at the pain.
“Sorry.”
At this rate Stacy is going to brush all the hairs from my scalp, and it doesn’t half hurt as well. She’s not gentle. “Can you please take it a little more easy.” I beg. My eyes are starting to water.
Stacy apologises again and gets back to work only slightly less pulling at my locks. She drapes a towel around my shoulders and instructs me to follow her.
Oh. So that was just the brushing of hair part. I dread to think what I’m about to endure whilst having my hair washed.
Leaning the back of my head and neck into the sink, I try to relax while staring at the ceiling propped television set. I might be in even more of a panic now though. What if that flatscreen falls onto my face? It will probably kill me—”
“Ouch, ouch!” I scream as Stacy blasts my skull with hot water. “Too warm! That’s much too warm!”
“Sorry.” She apologises yet again and removes the stream of scalding water from the top of my head. When she next starts wetting my locks the water is freezing cold. I’m not going to complain though, because I’d rather have chattering teeth come the end of enduring this, than to have my scalp burned off.
And so, yet again, I find myself grinning and baring it. I’m literally clamping my jaw shut tight together in attempts at withstanding the freeze upon my head.
“Okay,” Stacy finally says after shutting off the liquid nitrogen temperature water. “You can sit forward now.”
Rising slowly, it takes a second for Stacy to gather up the towel from around my shoulders. She doesn’t quite wrap it tightly around my head well enough, so chilled water drips from my forehead and into my eyes.
Shivering, I rise from my seat and follow Stacy back towards the salon chair. I figure she’ll have to blow dry my hair a bit, so maybe I’ll be able to warm up from some hot air soon.
Correction, I’m going to be perpetually frozen solid for the remainder of this ordeal. Stacy has turned on a desk fan and has aimed it fully at my face. “This will slowly dry your hair.” She explains. “We don’t want it dripping wet, now do we?”
We don’t. No, I certainly don’t. I never want my hair to be cold and dripping wet again! I’m tempted to take a mental vow of never again stepping foot into an outdoor swimming pool, if it means I would then never have to get out and subject my poor cranium to freezing cold air against it.
Wrapping my arms around myself underneath the black shift, doesn’t warm me up at all. What’s worse is that Stacy has now started dragging a fine toothed comb through my sodden hair, after pulling down the wet towel.
“Ow.” I yelp as my head is wrenched back.
“Sorry.”
“Ooouuuch.” I moan when Stacy drags the comb about halfway down my scalp, only to be stopped by the tangling of my hair.
“Sorry.”
This can’t go on! I’ll never be able to endure the agony! “It’s just that I’ve got