Long overdue for a haircut, I made an appointment with a new stylist.
I got his name from a woman I accosted in an antiques store who had a great cut. I held onto his name for a while, since I've been trying to get some length.
So I walk into the salon and the receptionist/hostess tells me the stylist will be right with me and offered me a drink. The options being water, tea and wine... I decided that I was indeed in the mood for a glass of white wine.
Half way through the haircut, I realized that I hadn't eaten all day and the glass of wine managed to get me a little drunk! Hooo! Imagine that!
Of course I loved the cut. Why wouldn't I? I'd have loved the broom at that point.
The really strange part was leaving the salon realizing that I couldn't drive! So I walked over to a pub and got something to eat. (the best Eggplant Parmesan sandwich ever!)
Later, I told Kim about the tipsy haircut and she was a bit bewildered as to how the salon could afford to serve wine - then corrected her thinking by saying, "Well, I'm sure they make up for it in tips."
"No... " I insisted, "I just gave him 20 percent." Then it hit me. "Which I calculated on the price plus product!"
Ugh. That wine wasn't so free was it!
(my apologies, this story is much funnier over the phone!)
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