Hairy situation

For a while now, I had been growing out my hair. At first it was because the guy I was dating said the longer hair looked good on me (previously I always liked to keep it at chin level). After we broke up, I kept the longer hair because all the super models had long flowy hair (hey it works for them).
Caulk up the next four inches on plain ole laziness. When my daily style consisted of a ponytail or bun so I wouldn’t have to deal with all the hair, I knew it was time for a change. Of course it would be a shame to toss out all that “virgin” hair (non-chemical/color treated, healthy hair) that all the charities ask for., so I decided to donate it. For the next month I would tell myself each weekend to make an appointment and get a freaking haircut already. Unfortunately I didn’t know of any real hair salons or stylists to call upon. I realize now I could have called on a girlfriend to give me a recommendation, but I was frankly stupid. Laziness is what compelled me to visit a Hair Cuttery that just opened a block away in my neighborhood (next to ghetto Target).
I know, you can tell already it is going to be a big mistake. All I cared was that it would be over with in an hour and I was tired of the long hair already. I asked for something completely different than all my previous cuts. It was to be a bob with a dramatic angle, super short in the back and shoulder length in the front. The stylist divided my hair into three sections with rubber bands, one in the back and one on either side. The first cut was to be the most hair since I was going short in the back. The woman grasped the pony tail…and cut below the rubber band! The hair was falling loose and to the floor. I reached back and tried to grab as much as I could since the charities don’t accept hair swept up off the floor. Aghast, I asked the woman why she cut below the rubber band when the point was to cut above it in order to keep the hair together. There was about 12 inches of hair to be had. On the side, there would be only 8 inches since I wanted it shoulder length in front. Well the woman put in the rubber band at armpit level which seemed right if she where to cut just above it. She then grabbed the hair and cut it above the band…at chin level! OMG!!! The whole salon stood still in silence because we all knew she fucked up. In hindsight, I should have known she didn’t have a clue what she was doing when she botched the first cut.
Immediately the manager was at my side asking what was going on. I sputtered out that she cut my hair way shorter than we discussed (i.e. long at the front) and she defended herself with a “well she said to cut it above the rubber band, so I did”. The manager then informed her that she was only supposed to cut an inch above the band…not six. You could predict what happened next; the manager took over my cut and the idiot stylist was sent to clean the combs. The challenge now was figuring out the solution. The third section was not yet cut, so the manager decided to give me a deep part and create a “comb over” with the still long hair. Yep, I have a comb over. If you lift off the top section of my hair on the right side, you will see it is all super short underneath. Oh c’est la vie. Now I have had a comb over and a mullet hair style. Ha!