Bad Hair Day

I got a haircut today. The result wasn’t a nightmare (thank goodness) but the process was. And today is the day when everybody seems to have gone off for holiday when I have business to do with them. Honestly, Malaysian entrepreneurs have a long way to go in terms of customer service.

It was 3pm when my mum and I left the house to Seremban town. She dropped me off at the clinic to settle my grandpa’s medical bills, only to find it closed. I went up to their office (one of the nurses answered the door) and they told me to come the next day.

Next was the JP’s (Justice of Peace) office. I just received a voice mail from his secretary that morning to come and collect the certs I sent in for translation. When I came in, she wasn’t in and I had to wait. In the meantime, I went to the Immigration Office to inquire on passport renewal. I was told something I had already know so I only took the form and went back to the JP’s office. The secretary still has not returned, so I informed him I’ll come to collect it the next day.

Next was the hair salon. The one I went to regularly was closed, so we went to another. The hair dresser had a field time uprooting my scalp as she furiously went through my super-curly-and-tangled hair with a comb. When she asked me how I would like my hair cut, I said

Just a bit longer than shoulder length , layered to keep long.

She looked at me and asked, layered?

To let the hair have some bounce? I replied.

That was exactly what the previous hairdresser who did my hair said. She told me it was kind of a japanese-style hair cut thingy, where the hair is layered in such a way that it was short in the outer layer and gets longer in – it gives the hair more body and movement.

Oh well. I survived the cut (though wasn’t exactly what I expected).

Next came the wash.

I was made to wait several minutes before a wimpy kid with semi-bleached hair attended to me. He asked, “Cuci?”

I said yes.

The next ten to twenty minutes was him lathering up my head with lots of shampoo, and making the hair form a foamy bun on top of my hair and shaping it into weird shapes (in the name of shampooing for God’s sake! ) pausing to yawn, and pausing again to crack his neck, checking out the other customers, staring blankly into his own reflection in the mirror…

After the rinsing, he pushed me off the seat (thank goodness for my dance skills my reflex was such that I didn’t fall) and proceeded to drying the hair. I told him I wanted my hair to dry to my natural curls. So he took a blob of wax or serum or whatever it was and lathered my hair with it. Then he took the hair dryer, attached the diffuser to it and dried my hair, strand by strand.

Honestly, I could have done it in under five minutes. Had I grabbed the hairdryer off his hands and did my hair on my own.

I left the salon looking like a seaweed head. Think Gilbert Nightray from Pandora Hearts.

Pffft….

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