My hairdresser gave me a bad haircut. Shortly later, she was hit by a car. I must say, considering all the things I wished would
happen to her after walking out of my hair appointment, this was an unexpected little treat from the karma gods. (And to be fair: She was tapped
by the front of a car when it didn't come to a complete stop, and she took a hard fall on her bum.) Am I the Worst Person Ever?
We've all been on the receiving end of a pair of shears that seem to hold a grudge against letting you look good. When you're paying a hairdresser $80 to please
not take off length, please
not cut bangs and please
not use a razor gone, you feel betrayed, confused and helpless -- all at once -- when she spins you around to display your new self-esteem problem. After getting a terrible haircut, you have three options on how to handle it:
Just sit there and grin and bear it, nodding your head in agreement about how "sassy and versatile" your new bowl haircut is. You excuse yourself to go cry in the bathroom, telling yourself it was your fault, then emerge collected with a triumphant air about you. You even tip 20 percent despite the fact that you look like Mary Lou Retton, circa 1984. You, my friend, are a victim.
The Reality TV Star
A strange look spreads over your face as you gaze at those
highlights streaking through your hair. You become angry and confrontational. You insist you will not pay for this atrocity and that if they try to make you pay for it, there's gonna be a problem. There is light shoving. Next thing you know, you've been slapped with a restraining order. You, my friend, are a Real Housewife of New Jersey.
The Passive-Aggressive Blogger
You furrow your brows while running your fingers through newly butchered hair, loudly proclaiming, "Wow! This would be a great haircut if this is what I asked for!", pulling off a combo of Smiling Toad and Reality TV Star. You throw down your money with a meager tip and, while exiting, mutter under your breath, "I'll see you in hell." Go home and focus all of your energy into hating this person who just tagged another seven months onto your "road to beauty" conquest, but then receive word that she's been hit by a car and grin from ear to ear. You look so much prettier when you smile. You, my friend, might be the WPE.
Brooke Van Poppelen would like you to know that her hairdresser was merely tapped by the front of a car when it didn't come to a complete stop. She took a hard fall on her bum, but was totally fine, other than some bruised thighs. You can read about Brooke's adventures here.