picture: courtesy of google.com
I am a long hair fanatic. Saying that, once I get to a certain lengths, I have it cut off again. Years ago, I overdid the cutting off a bit and I was very unhappy with my hair. True to my style, I kept talking about hair extensions and one weekend, as we were in Holland shopping, we walked past a hairdressers in a shopping centre that advertised hair extensions.
In my defence, I was not too keen on it, don´t know why, probably because the cost of it. Still, Mr CB, thinking he was doing me a favour, pushed me to inquire about it. Said and done, he went to the bank, took out a horrendous sum of money and patiently waited for approximately 4 hours until the deed was done.
Now, I don´t know if you are familiar with hair extensions but because my top hair was not that long, it kind of looked strange, to me anyway because I am very fussy about hair (ex hairdresser ;-)).
Still, it was not bad, just something to get used to, I thought at the time.
Of course I had to buy special shampoo and a special hair brush as well, all adding up to the cost.
Initially, I was happy but as days went by, only one or two I might add, it became apparent that either they made a mistake by fixing the extensions too close to my hairline or maybe it was just me but….. it hurt… a lot. When washing and/or combing my hair, I would pull out strands, including my own hair of course. It was winter and my jacked would rub painfully against the extensions, I started scratching, it was sore, so sore 😦
After a week or two (can´t remember how long Mr CB actually put up with my whines), he took me back to the hairdressers to have them removed. Of course the stupid cow then said that quite a few people had that problem, common apparently. So, 3 hours of very painful removal of the extensions, they wanted another 80 € of me. What for, I asked, hadn´t she herself said that it was a common problem and shouldn´t they have made me aware of it beforehand?
Pay, she said.
Bugger off, I said (or words to that effect) all in a mixture of German vs Dutch of course.
Pay, she said again
F*** off, I said (or words….)
To cut a long story short, we were escorted off the premises (didn´t even know that they had such a thing as security at that place ;-))
Mr CB kept the extensions in the boot of his car for ages, taking the mickey every time we drove somewhere until, eventually, I got fed up and “disposed” of them.
He´s still laughing to this day, whereas, we haven´t been back to that particularly shopping centre, since.
Just as well my boys (all but the big one) were still too young to understand why mum was being escorted off the premises by this butch guy 😉