Salon (2/4)

Liên, Mom, and I went to have our hair done.  Although the first place we stopped was advertised as a salon, it looked like a brothel inside.  After we explained what we were looking for, the young ladies laughed at us and pointed to an establishment for women.  At the real salon, there was a friendly woman, an angry woman, and a fashionable young man working while the American TV station in the background blared out such favorites as, "Screamer" and "What's My Name."  The hipster cut and styled our hair while the women worked very quickly doing everything else, like multiple washings, curling, applying 3 rounds of chemicals, etc.  Mom periodically disappeared and reappeared until she disappeared permanently.  She always understands everything that they're saying, so she doesn't get to experience the mystery we do.  The women were very rough with our heads, and it was painful.  My eyes welled up with tears several times, and Liên and I ended up taking ibuprofen.

Due to the language barrier, the hairstylists would push us around when they wanted us to do something, such as go to the back rooms and get our hair washed again.  One time after a washing, one of the women wanted me to hold the towel on the back of my wet hair, so she grabbed my hand and shoved it into place.  Unfortunately, I had been palming a handful of snotty tissues, which ended up getting thrown all over the floor.  To add to the mess, we were wearing containers on our shoulders to catch the perm chemicals, and Liên was making me laugh so hard that I would lean forward and spill them out onto the floor periodically.  It was embarrassing.

Last but not least, another woman entered the salon and promptly got a steaming bag on her head.  Every time Liên turned around, the bag had inflated a little more, as steam poured out.  It was so funny that we shot a video while I pretended to take a picture of my sister.

The entire process took 3 hours and cost twenty bucks.

I'd do it every six months if I could.