Most people consider the hair as their crowning glory, I do too.
poor service
I just hated the way the hair on the side of my head keeps on clumping making me look like Larry Fine. Today, after an interview at some company, as I was on my way leaving Brgy. Kapitolyo, I happened to pass by Anyo Salon and Spa that seemed void of customers. Even if the salon looked dubious, with its ‘beauticians’ er, I mean image stylists looking like overweight trolls hanging out by the door, I decided to have my quick fix.
First observation: 1) the stylist who entertained me looked worse than the comedian, Chokoleit. He was sporting a Justin Bieber-ish hair with the bangs in BLONDE! I remember a friend giving an advice that whenever new in a salon, always choose the stylist with the best hair because most likely, he has style. This trog, CLEARLY HAS NO SENSE OF STYLE WHATSOEVER. (Pardon my CAPS, I just hated what he f_cking did to my hair) So basically, I disregarded the first hint.
Second, his cape (the one they put on you to avoid being covered with hair) smelled awful–like some sweaty guy slept on it. I just told myself not to complain, you do not ask for more when you’re getting a Php 50.00-haircut.
Third and finally, the way he cuts my hair was so lax. Think of a lazy hippo in a watering hole. Yes, that’s how.
Then in the middle of my dilemma came a call–it was the company asking me to go back since the big boss wanted to see me for the final interview. I hurried the stylist to finish my cut yet to be keen on details. Subsequently, my honey called me up and my attention drifted away from saving my hair into a potential disaster.
The edge behind the ear on this side was shaved too high and not equal with the left ear. Ugh.
The result: an utter disappointment. I just zuezzed up my hair to make it at the least presentable and went to the counter to pay. Much to my surprise, when I handed the stylist a hundred bucks, without bothering to say something, stuffed the bill into the cash register. I asked for the loose change to which he replied: “I am the senior (stylist).” I wanted to make a face but time was of the essence. Thinking to myself, the cut he did was not even worth my measly sum of coins alone. Frustrated, I went to my interview and tried to shrug everything off until Jordan and I met at Makati. It was then that he made me realize how idiotic the cut was. It was bordering military and wearing a toupee. Insane. That’s when I started looking for a place where I can have it fixed the soonest. I ended up meeting my old stylist, which I no longer go to, for him to remedy the problem and soften up the angles that were very offensive. It was my honey who oversaw everything telling Lito (my old stylist) what to cut and decrease.
Thankful for my new look, I went home satisfied and with a smile. And thanks to my newfound image consultant (naks!), my hon’. 
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Sure French toast goes good for breakfast. But then again, wouldn’t it be sweet if someone brings you stacks of ‘em for late dinner (especially when you were craving.) I may have been had with those bordering-bland toasts and though I appreciate the thoughtful gesture, we still come from different perspectives. After too many failed relationships, I should know better now. On a lighter note, kudos for myself for not hastily rushing into another ‘would-have-been’ relationship.
