So hot … no rain …. and it feels like I'm trying to breathe underwater.
This makes me somewhat irritable. It gives me headaches. I perspire way more than any lady … or even me ... wants to perspire. But … worst of all ... my hair misbehaves in the manner of a petulant toddler. Which is to say it doesn't do a thing I want it to … and everything I don't want it to.
In my desperation I decided to give my usual ... "whatever is on sale at the supermarket" shampoo a miss … and spoil myself with some of the hardcore, pure stuff … the …. "salon" brand.
So off I went.
I was busily surveying the shampoo/conditioner gift packs that were on display out the front of the salon … when a young chap came out to offer me his assistance.
"What can I help you with today?" he enquired.
Then he took one look at my head … recoiled in horror … attempted to quickly assume an "I've seen it all before and it doesn't faze me" expression … and led me to the deep conditioning varieties.
Mind you … he was sporting dread locks, multiple facial piercings and embracing an emo/grunge/unwashed fashion persona. The thought could have occurred to me … "Are you the best candidate to advise on things relating to personal grooming and cleanliness?" … but that would have reeked of "Eau de judgemental old cow" … so I'm certain no such thought ever crossed my mind.
As it turns out he was just lovely … and so helpful. And he kindly never … not even once … referred to my hideous coiffure … such restraint is a clear sign of good character.
He sold me this … after telling me that there was no need to pay for the even more expensive ones … this one was every bit as good.
And guess what … he was right.
Cause here I am … post shampoo … loving myself sick.