Chop Chop

I made a judgement error today. I'm a little out of practice when it comes to choosing hairdressers, and today I decided on a whim that I needed a trim then and there.
Hairdressers generally recommend you get your hair cut every 6-8 weeks to keep your locks looking healthy and happy and such. My hair knows when it's time and following the 6 week day, refuses to cooperate like it really should.
Given my lack of time, lack of money and just general laziness, I let it slide for a couple of extra weeks - becoming rather creative with hat and headband wearing to mask the issues.
I caught myself close to bidding on a sequined monstrosity on Ebay for $60, and realized it would be cheaper if I just went the chop.
I was feeling ambitious today, rising early to visit the folk at Officeworks and do some photocopying and other uni-related tasks. After a lecture, a friendly visit or two, and a studio class, I set out to do grocery shopping. Along the way I stopped into the first hairdresser I found and asked how much for a trim.
The woman replied in broken English, "Foryou? 18 dollar"
Sweet. I hadn't had a haircut that cheap since, well, ever I think.
The salon was empty, so I thought I might as well just do it. She sat me down, found me a cape and got straight into it.
This was when I started to panic a little. The scissors came from a box that hummed, mentioning something about 'Stay Sanitary' on the outer lid. There was another gentleman in the salon who watched a children's programme on a nearby TV for the duration of my visit.
They stocked Pantene on their shelves as the 'hairdresser's recommend' and there was a roll of toilet paper sitting directly in front of me.
I was confused and unsure, but was already being attacked by Carmel, the Greek version of Mr Scissorhands. She combed my tremendously curly locks with a fine tooth comb - quite the no-no as far as I'm concerned.

I still have hair left, which is a bonus. I tied it up upon leaving and have been a little too scared to check it out just yet. I'm trying not to cast judgement until I've washed it and dried it myself.
It could very really be a case of Megan the three year old haircut making a resurgence.
Except this time Julie Baby won't be here to cut my blunt fringe using a piece of sticky tape as a guide.