Ms. Tits

I don’t like spending money on many things.  Food and wine?  Okay, not a problem!  Vacations?  Yes, please.  But clothes, shoes, manicures, massages or haircuts?  Not really my thing.  I like them all enough (especially massages), yet I’m a certified cheapskate.  It’s painful for me to part with $5o for perfectly coiffed locks.

When June hit and the weather began to top out in the mid-90’s I decided I had too much damn hair.  Visions of shoulder-length, bouncy locks were tormenting me and when I first fantasized about  a pixie cut I knew I needed to find someone to cut my hair.  Fast.

But where does a cheapskate go?  I hate places like Supercuts.  Visible Changes is okay in a pinch, but I was feeling even cheaper than that.  I just wanted a trim and it doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to do that.  So after doing some on-line research I decided to get my hair cut by a student at Paul Mitchell The School for only $15.00.  Brave or stupid?  Nope, just that cheap.

I showed up at 9:55 am on Saturday, walked into what appeared to be a full-functioning salon, gave my name and sat down to wait.  It was still fairly quiet, but at 10:00 sharp the salon exploded with activity.  At least fifty students entered the salon from one of the back rooms and I was openly staring at every single one of them.

They were all wearing black clothing, albeit in their own personal style.  I was somewhat in awe of these young and fashionable kids.  They were all so completely different!  I saw a guy with a mohawk, a girl with blonde hair in an elegant updo, a brunette with boho waves and two little braids that formed a halo around her head.  Funky choppy cuts seemed to be the norm, but I especially liked the bleached out girl with two odd patches of bright purple on each side of her head.  Somehow it worked.

My favorite, however, was the tall, thin and gorgeous dark-haired girl with perfectly applied make-up.  She stood in the corner looking so unaffected by everything that I didn’t believe her for a moment.  I believe she had an entourage.

Aside from their hair, these students were also allowed to express themselves with their shoes.  Red stilettos, Converse, Grecian sandals, combat boots, wedge heels and flip-flops dominated the scene.  I was in people-watching heaven!

Finally my name was called by a girl in her early twenties.  She had a really fun haircut and some serious cleavage.  Her name is Maria, but I’m just going to call her Ms. Tits.  She took me over to her station and we talked about what I wanted to do with my hair.  Before getting started and at each phase of the haircut one of the teachers comes by to check on the student’s progress and to discuss what will be done next.  This totally put me at ease!

My hair was washed, super conditioned and then it was time for the scissors to meet my hair.  Ms. Tits was totally competent.  She was also really sweet and conversation came easily, but I’m sure I offended her by using the F word too many times.  Oh fuck it, I hate calling it the F word.  About half-way through my haircut another student asked what time it was and Ms. Tits reached into her cleavage, pulled out her phone, told her the time and then swiftly placed it back between her boobs.  I tried not to laugh, you know?  I’m ashamed to admit that I have very little self-control.  Through the rest of my cut I kept watching Ms. Tits cleavage, waiting for the phone to fall out when she leaned over, but it never happened.

By the time my hair was cut, blown dry and flat-ironed I knew I was really, really happy with my haircut.  And honestly shocked by how well everything went.   $15.00?  It’s an absolute steal and I will definitely go back!

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2 thoughts on “Ms. Tits

  1. Kelly, you really need to write a book. While I’m not a fan of the F word, and you know it, your use of words is so fun. You make me laugh. Oh, and I agree with Katie. Where’s the picture of your new do?

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