Cut Them All

I got a haircut and highlight yesterday. It was at this really nice salon north of where I live. I had a separate colorist and stylist, which was pretty exciting. It started out on a funny note because I was a little late getting there due to traffic on the 101. I went up to the counter to check in, and the greeter said she'd show me around the salon, which I will admit, was huge. She then realized that I was late, and brought me back to the changing area straight away. She left me in a little changing room with a robe to put over my clothes and instructed me to wait for the colorist. I put the robe on, which was nicer than your usual hair-cuttery robe--it had one snap in the front and tied around your waist, and then I sat there to wait for the colorist. After a bit, I wondered if the colorist would knock, or if I should open the door. I opened the door and sat back down. Probably five minutes later, the greeter came back and said I was supposed to come out of the room and wait in the waiting room. The colorist had been waiting for me! Oops! The colorist introduced himself, and brought me to his station. He then apologized several times that since we were running a little late, he might be a little quiet during the session, but that didn't mean that he didn't want to talk to me. After having all the color applied, I waited for it to process, and then had my hair rinsed and washed by the stylist. They had a weird set-up where you actually laid down on a table, rather than sitting in a reclining chair with your head in a sink. It was very comfortable on the neck. The stylist was good and pretty funny too. The oddest part of the cut was that she mentioned how she thought I had beautiful eyelashes that were very long and curly. She asked if I did that, or if they were naturally that way. I was a little baffled because the only thing I ever do is use a little plastic eyelash curler, which I thought was pretty ordinary. Anyway, I think it all turned out well overall; I swear I look younger...