Scissors-swinging Smurfette at the Swanky Salon

Like my girlfriends' husbands, my hair is endless stubborn, totally unmanageable and hopelessly straight. All attempts to tame it seem to have failed miserably. Without a serious hedge trim every few weeks, my hair usually ends up in thorny spikes all over my head.

But with the hiked-up prices for goods and services here, it comes as no surprise that even a simple haircut costs a small fortune. Certainly given me a rethink about my career path with the exorbitant fees these frou frou hairstylists charge! Why go to medical school when you can charge an arm and a leg for clipped sideburns?

So as I stumbled out of the swanky salon ( after hearing the inordinately expensive price of chopping my crop ), I made a quick beeline towards the school of hairdressing right opposite. Seriously, thank God for aspiring students.

Sure, you get the failures once in a while but every once in a while, you do bump into an A-star student. A Vidal Sassoon wannabe.

Me, I got Scissors-swinging Smurfette twice.


Time for a trim?
Certainly an overachiever desperate to please her hapless customers. Not only did Smurfette leap into the sidewalk to accost me, she practically stabbed me with her freakishly sharp shears as she waved them around adjuring me to come in. Shoving me into a conveniently placed chair, she immediately fished out an apron to drape over me and dumped an entire bottle of shampoo on my head.

Then despite the fact that I tried to dissuade her, she insisted on continuing with the prerequisite head-squeeze. Seriously. Does anyone actually appreciate getting a what amounts to a noogie at the salon? Despite her puny size, Smurfette was certainly undaunted and tried her best to crush my skull with her misguided massage techniques.

Her childish enthusiasm amused me though. Even the way she knotted the towel around my head to resemble a tengkolok ( traditional Malay headdress ) rather than the normal twist was cute.

Smurfette : OMG. I got your shirt wet, didn't I!
Paul : I walked here in a shirt and tie. The temperature here's hotter than hell. Of course I'm wet.
Smurfette : It can't be sweat. I must have drowned you while I got your hair washed!
Paul : Relax. It's sweat.
Smurfette : So sorry I got you wet! Take off your shirt and I'll get it dried!
Paul : I shall do no such thing.

If I'd taken umbrage, no doubt she would have kowtowed to ask for my forgiveness. Our chirpy lil miss tries so hard. Of course all her feminine charms are wasted on me. Sadly I'd probably appreciate her enthusiasm more if she resembled a virile six-foot hunk.

Wonder whether I trust her to highlight my hair.