For most of my life, my hair has been worn with bangs. I’ve grown them out a couple times but quite frankly, there is a reason I don’t do that often. Okay, there are two. First, it is really annoying to grow bangs out as there is that in between stage which is enough to drive one completely bonkers (if I may use a medical term). The other reason is that my hair looks better with the bangs.

But it does mean that every few weeks, something must be done. I used to trim my bangs every time I colored my hair but I stopped coloring my hair about ten years ago. It was already too gray to make coloring it work for me. My natural underlying color is dark. I had too many roots which were light or glowing silver or whatever nice word we would like to use for the gray along with too many roots which were dark brown. So, it took almost no time no matter what color I did my hair for the root rot to set in.

I gave up coloring my hair, but I still had bangs to deal with. I would try to remember to cut my bangs before taking a shower. There are two good reasons for this. If hair is wet when it is cut, it seems longer than it is when dry and whacking off bangs can be dangerous in that situation. The other reason is that if you do it before showering, all the loose stick-to-your-face bits of hair are washed down the drain.

This wasn’t as bad when I was still wearing contacts because I could actually sorta see what I was doing except for the whole hands in my way thing. But I started back to wearing glasses again and so I’m blind as a bat and can’t even find the mirror let alone any images in it. It didn’t stop me from trying.

The last time I attempted this feat, I cut one side noticeably shorter than the other, but the only way to fix it would be to shorten the other side to too short as well and look like I was six again and my mother had cut my bangs nearly up to my hairline as was her wont. Instead, I just pretended they were straight and figured what the heck, I’m old and no one really cares anyway. No one stopped talking to me and no one was staring at my forehead – at least that I caught.

It was time to cut my bangs again. But it was also time to get a haircut. My hair was reaching my shoulders and flipping up when I really wanted it curled under. So what I needed to do was resist the urge to whack my bangs off and actually get to the salon to get a whole haircut. I could do this. Patience is a virtue and waiting is okay. This was not easy for me.

The place I’ve been getting my hair cut for the last few years is right around the corner from where I work. They are closed on Mondays so I had to be patient longer and know that I could wait until today. I meant to call them from work, but I lost my mind and didn’t do that. I walked in after work to see if they had an appointment today or one tomorrow for 4 PM, when I finished work.

There was a woman s-l-o-w-l-y paying for whatever it was she had done today. I waited patiently without rancor. It would be fine even it was taking time. After she finally paid her bill and then remembered about a tip and made that transaction as well, it was my turn. But it wasn’t. The receptionist picked up the phone and thanked the caller for waiting. She then helped the woman who had an appointment she couldn’t keep figure out when her preferred stylist was available which apparently was never again. After scrolling back and forth, discussing which days the stylist worked, and seeing how busy he or she was, the client opted to keep the appointment that was unkeepable prior to calling.

Now it was my turn. I had noticed while having all the time in the world that not one person was standing behind a chair. There were two clients with hair foils in place and waiting for time to pass. There was a gaggle of stylists around the corner laughing and talking. No one was working – except the world’s greatest receptionist.

I mentioned that I was hoping for a haircut right now or perhaps the next day at 4 PM. The phone rang. She answered it. Apparently in the short time between phone calls, she forgot how to put someone on hold and she decided to book the caller’s appointment. There were options during the day and then there were options in a few days and then there was one appointment that worked perfectly for the caller. Crystal was available at 4 PM tomorrow and so the caller was given that appointment.

Now it was my turn. There was no one available to cut my hair right then – probably because there wasn’t enough time before their next appointment since I had been standing there for over 15 minutes already and they wouldn’t have enough time to finish me before a scheduled appointment came in and making a scheduled appointment wait would be horrific. (I had a scheduled appointment last time I was there and it was for noon, but for some reason, even though my stylist finished working around 12.20, I didn’t get to start until 12.45.)

So, perky world’s best receptionist wanted to know if I could come in at 11.30 tomorrow (the same appointment she first tried to give to the caller) and I said that I had specifically asked for either right now or 4 PM tomorrow and since she had taken care of the caller rather than put them on hold to take care of me, standing patiently in front of her, she had given away the appointment I needed. She offered to call the person back and rescind the appointment and give it to me. I declined.

I told her I would take my head and money elsewhere and that, by the way, I was in her computer system – meaning I was a repeat customer.

I got home, had dinner, and then decided to take my head up to Great Clips two minutes from the house. She did a great job cutting my hair. I made sure she understood both what I wanted and what I definitely did not want. No Edward Scissorhands tears for me – unlike my sister’s last haircut surprise.

I got in and out and my hair looks good. My bangs are evenly cut and I can see out under them. All that and I was treated pleasantly and it cost half as much.

Life is an adventure. Eat dessert first.

Sorta like my hair, but mine has bangs. And I don't look like this.

Sorta like my hair, but mine has bangs. And I don’t look like this.