Had my hair done. That's about as exciting as it's been today.
But what I did notice, as I was trying to read my book, as the concoction on my head weaved it's magic, was how loud the hairdresser talked. In fact, she belted out everything she said! Great projection, my drama teacher would have said.
And that young man, whose salon it seemed to be, bellowed absolutely everything. And God help the poor bastard who phoned and got him - I tell you!
I suppose it's the hazard of the job. Trying to be heard over constant hairdryers, and overhead music, and curlers and whatnot. Not that I've seen anyone in curlers in a salon for a long time.
I thought the hairdressers was a magical place when I was a kid. I'd go along with my mum while she got her shampoo and set, and pretend to read me Bunty comic. Now, you have to trust me, they did not remotely talk loud then. They all spoke in whispers - adult talk - words I was itching to overhear. Words not for little ears. Especially about Mrs Green at number 8! A strong and favourite subject around our way. But the buggers were discreet then and whispered over my mum's beehive.
Of course, once you were under one of those dryers out of Dr Who that came right over your head, conversation ceased anyway, it dominating you and everything. I still love those dryers with a chair, always swore I'd get one. They were kind of glamorous - with a pull out ashtray in the arm.
Once, when someone was doing a perm and it smelt of rotten eggs, as it did then, I assumed someone had farted, and gave this young girl a dirty look!
Swimming instructors and PE teachers also have extraordinarily loud voices - for obvious reasons - but I can give these a wide berth!
I wonder if there's a whispering hairdresser in the phone book!
