Once he had nicely settled me in, all thoughts of a simple snip and run disappeared. He looked down upon me with this frown on his face, then started manhandling my hair, tut tutting all the while.
All resolve and thoughts of budget sailed out the door, as they are prone to do when im seated compromisingly in malls or candy stores. I started to ask him for a trim but then he did his "hmm'ing" thing.... and I gave in! I broke down. I wailed. I told him i was sick of having to rebond my hair, sick of being constrained by the curls that would eventually come, sick sick sick, yada yada yada. With a deft flick of his wrist, he gave me a serious look and said..
"Don wan rebond, then..then perm lah"
I still can't believe i did it. I still do believe that most hairstyling procedures were invented solely for the embarrassment of the customer, and that they are inversely related to the proximity of the door to your seat plus number of people who happen to walk by and gawk. I swear- I had my locks trapped to this thing that looked like a mothership with telephone cords stuck into my head, floating 20 cm above . I cldn't turn my head, let alone move. Not funny. I harrassed the cute ah lian who did the actual curls to make sure i didn't turn out stylo a la auntie. I was fiercesome to kenny when he commented that it was worth a try. No try! It had better work!
When all was said and done and paid for, i hot stepped it to the nearest loo to stare at my perm. My perm! One small step (backwards) for the bank balance, one giant leap forward for tai tai dom!
Like my curls?
