From the lavish lobby of a 5 star hotel, my friend N and I took the elevator to go to the lower ground floor of the hotel where the salon was. This should’ve been a warning to us because little did we know, we’re about to embark on a journey through hell as soon as we stepped into the salon. Clearly, going to the lower ground floor should be a sign for us. The funny thing was, there were so many warnings sent to us but we chose to ignore it because we probably were desperate to get a haircut (read: we were stupid).
The lady at the reception immediately went inside the back storage room as soon as we walked in which served as the second warning. Instead of greeting us, she ignored us and quickly vanished before we could even say hello. As I badly needed to go to the bathroom, I told my friend that I’ll just catch up with her and she can start with her haircut without me. It was a buy 1 take 1 deal and from the list of all the salons where we can use this voucher, we chose this one because of its name and the salon had so many branches dotted around the city. We couldn’t have been more wrong about this choice.
When I came back from the bathroom, my friend N was still standing in the middle of the salon waiting for someone to talk to (warning number 3). It was empty, we should’ve just left then but noooooOOOOOO – we waited. A few more minutes passed and a lady came out of the back storage room and started sweeping the floor. We were confused if the salon was already open or she’s just ignoring us. She continued sweeping, avoiding eye contact and not glancing towards where we were standing. (warning number 4).
We stood there like dummies for a few more seconds which felt like a lifetime to us until the lady sweeper finally looked up and acknowledged our presence in the middle of the salon that she was sweeping. She wasn’t friendly. She was upset. She was clearly so annoyed that we were there and that she had to deal with us. She told us to sit, where? We don’t know. We didn’t know if we should sit on the chairs facing the mirror for our haircut or sit at the reception area or sit on the floor. So we still just stood there, a bit shocked by the rudeness on her face. Does she bite? Is she going to ravage our body and feed our intestines to crazy dogs that they’re hiding in that storage room? We should’ve known then that we were actually dealing with the spawn of satan himself.
Another lady came out of the storage room (which I now believe is a blackhole to hell) and she wasn’t very pleased as well at the sight of us. Without saying a word, she led my friend N to the sink so she can wash her hair and my friend looked at me with concern in her eyes as she walked away. Was she asking me to help her? What can I possibly do to save her from becoming the sacrificial lamb in a voodoo ceremony of this cult? What if they take me instead? Sorry N, can’t risk it!
The lady sweeper finished cleaning up the imaginary mess and went out of the salon. Thank goodness! Another woman came from the outside, I thought she would be just as evil as the others but as it turned out, she was an angel. She asked me if I wanted to start with my manicure, I told her that I was there for a haircut and not for a manicure. The angel changed her persona and became upset, not to me though but to the lady sweeper who left the salon. Apparently, the lady sweeper told this angel that I wanted to get a manicure instead of a haircut (warning number 5).
The angel left, probably to fight with the evil spirit outside and came back with a sweet smile on her face. She led me to the sink so she can wash my hair. When I sat in front of the mirror ready for my haircut with this sweet angel, she told me that I need to wait for awhile until the lady sweeper comes back to cut my hair. Holy crap!
Lady sweeper came back, grumpier than ever. Went straight to me and started parting my hair on 4 sides. Left, right, back and front. She asked me what kind of haircut I wanted, I slowly took my phone out to show her a photo of a girl with a fabulous haircut which I was pretty sure wouldn’t be the case for me. She quickly glanced at the photo and started cutting my hair. I didn’t move, I didn’t speak, I didn’t breathe. I was so afraid to anger it. She’s surrounded with scissors and I had nothing to protect me but my phone. I sure am not going to anger her/it as I value my life.
She successfully delivered her message, I was a nuisance to her and that I shouldn’t have been there. She’d comb through my hair so hard that I had to force myself to stay upright so I wouldn’t fall from my chair. She took huge chunks of my hair on each sides and started “styling” it, hell-ish style. In my 30 plus years of existence in this world, it was the first time I had a haircut like that. A child could do so much better. Sooooo much better. It took her no more than 7 minutes to finish it all off. I didn’t flinch, I didn’t say a word, I was just so happy that she only cut a few inches off my hair.
While she was blow-drying my hair, she “accidentally” (read: deliberately) dropped the heavy brush on my shoulders numerous times. Again, I didn’t say a word for the fear of getting slapped with the heavy brush if I open my mouth. I was praying for her to finish already so we could just get out of there. As soon as she turned off the hair dryer, I quickly got up, grabbed my friend N, paid for the bill, walked out of the hell-hole and never looked back! We were so relieved to see the lavish lobby of the 5 star hotel once again. Finally, we’re safe! We’re back in the real world. We were saved from the hands of the devil, maybe not our hair but us! We were alive! We hugged each other and celebrated our triumph with a glass of cider.
We vowed to ourselves that we will never ever go back to the dark side ever again. My hair’s now a mess and I need to get it fixed by a professional. I just can’t do it right now as I’m still a bit traumatized by that hairdresser from hell.