I get to the salon a bit early so I relax with a pint before heading in. Today a good friend of mine was able to join me...double bonus.
Then I spend 2-3 hours with my friend who is also a great stylist and a color master. He single-handedly helpede through the grey hair crisis of 2010 by concocting an almost better red than I had been blessed with.
He's funny, and he's all over the place, and we laugh. It's fun. It takes a bit longer than other clients' cuts and colors, it seems, but I attribute that to my thick hair and his ability to literally talk about anything.
Then today we were interrupted by an elderly lady. As she walked past my chair, where half my hair was plastered against my skull with the dye, she said, "Wheb I saw you from the side, your gorgeous hair, I thought you were Shawn White."
That's right, the Snowboarder also known as The Flying Tomato...
Yet, she seemed to earnest, so complimentary. I had to stop myself mom laughing, as did my friend and stylist.
Most interesting ritual night, ever.
And really... The Flying Tomato?
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