Shortest horror story ever.

I hate getting haircuts on the road but I was turning into Rapunzel, so I went to a place recommended by this person that I’m probably going to kill. It was blocks and blocks away – I passed five other hair salons on the walk. I’m presented to a middle-aged, Hulk-woman, who’s living the Romanian dream with a Russian accent. She has streaming black tresses to her shoulder, like d’Artagnan, and asks me what I want. A little trim, the smallest possible, I tell her. She nods. She throws a fierce look at my fingers curled around a Starbucks espresso tumbler. She grabs it out of my hand and places it right in between two fat bunches of curly hair from an old lady who smells like naphthalene meatballs cooked in Chanel No. 5. Her young assistant walks in. He’s the perfect cross between Kurt Cobain’s mesmerizing face and Tobey Maguire’s insanely mesmerizing eyes. “I am married, but he is my boyfriend”, she informs me, while I’m presumably staring at KurtTobey slack-jawed. Then, with a great flourish of scissors, she whacks into my hair, and I realize I’m going to get scalped. After that first cut, it’s inevitable. I think she must be anti-Starbucks. I now look like a Russian conscript.

Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , | 3 Comments

Post navigation

3 thoughts on “Shortest horror story ever.

  1. =))

    😀

  2. I don’t remember the path I took to finally get to this post…I don’t really remember starting to read it…I read the whole thing without even realizing I was doing it. Your writing really pulled me in without me even noticing. You paint quite a picture – I really enjoyed it!

    • Thank you for taking the time to tell me! (especially since I was kind of determined to delete this blog)
      I’m always happy to find out new opinions!🙂

      P.S.: I just checked out your blog. I need to subscribe! Your kids are so lucky!🙂 Healthy food is always on my menu although I am not that talented in the kitchen. Well, to be honest, my avoidance of cooking, a basic life skill, derives from my paralyzing fear of burning everything (I usually burn my food, yep) or turning everything into a totally inedible and/or poisoning meal. Haha.
      Thanks again!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: