Two weeks ago I got my haircut. The hairdresser was new and I was pleasantly surprised that she also had curly hair. I assume if she can fix her own hair then I think she should be able to manage my own curly mop. It began like an other appointment. A few questions about what I wanted done, what my hair was like, etc. She began cutting and then apparently she felt we had some magical bond or she had verbal diarrhea not hampered by any professionalism standards.


She began to tell me about her ex and his new girlfriend. How much she hated him and how he did not support the kids. He refused to see the kids at her house and he insisted he be able to have them overnight. She went on to comment on the girlfriend. Explaining to me, her kids were not going to have a new mom. This went on and on. Forever.


If I closed my eyes I could have sworn my hair was being cut by Krypto.


My family shows up towards the end and she notices them in the background. She asks me how old all the kids are. I quickly give ages and wish I could sneak out of the chair. She asks if they are all mine. I respond, "Yes they are all mine but I do share them with their mother." She asks if I get along with their mother and I tell her it's a work in progress like everything else.


I was relieved to get out of the salon. Even my time to relax gets interrupted.