So I went in and was confronted with the one thing a busty, somewhat bootylicious mother doesn't want to see: a chair that is way too small for you to fit in.
After that, it all went a little strange. The "hairdresser", when I told her there was "no way my derriére will fit in there", lost no pace when she whirled around to me and implored.... "You bruss my hair? I have a haircut and you be um, um, thaaaaa, um, hairdwessah??"
Again, I couldn't say no. I took up my cutting utensil (a swizzle stick from the Crown Hotel...) and had no choice but to snip away. I was putty in her tiny hands.
Halfway during the cut, I had to leave apologetically. Dinner was on. When I walked past later, it was to this scene, befitting of the hurried beautifying that I heard going on earlier, after I left the hairdresser in her salon....
Compact, keys, calculator, toe dividers (???), a credit card, comb, some random flash card, lippy strewn in a northerly direction.... What else could a girl need in her handbag?
