Getting "Hair" Done ...

I have never had much luck with finding two things which really work for me.  A gynecologist and a good hairdresser.  As any lady will tell you, or maybe not, it's important to have folks who know what they are doing in these two fields.  A bad visit with either one of these professionals can really sour a girl's day.  Since moving to Tennessee, I have not had much luck in with finding professionals in either one of these fields that survived more than one or two visits from me.  That is until today.  Today, I am cautiously optimistic, I may have found a hair stylist!  For years I have suffered through folks who are good at their jobs, but not very good at listening to their clients.  Or sometimes they are so very good at their jobs that they don't feel it necessary to give the client anything of what they ask for.  After all, they know better!  For years now, I have sat in the stylist's chair, told them what I wanted and had to walk out making peace with whatever style they deemed would look best on me.  A few months ago, I wanted a pixie cut, but the stylists shook her head and replied, "I don't see you with something that edgy.  You would look better with soft layers."  The problem was, I had had soft layers for years!  I wanted something different!  What the poor woman didn't know, and couldn't know, was that the twenty stylists before her had said the exact same thing.  Well, with the exception of one who nodded when I explained to her what I wanted done and then simply did what she wanted to do anyway.  Soft layers.  Today, was different.  I walked into the salon armed with a picture of what I wanted done.  To make sure that it would look good on me, I had gone through the trouble of downloading an app that allows you to see what a style or hair color would look like on you before you attempt to wear it.  I confidently pulled out my phone and showed her what I wanted done.  My arguments were neatly lined up and ready to go, my resolve was ... well ... resolute!  She looked at my picture and exclaimed with glee, "Oh yay!  This is going to be so much fun!"  That was NOT the reaction I expected.  Out came the foils and a metric tonne were applied to my head.  Next, it was time for me to bake ... under the dryers I went.  Just when I feared becoming all crispy, I was whisked out and whirled into the comfy chair at the basin where some rather foul smell stuff was smeared on my hair.  Rinse, condition, massage, rinse and pat dry.  Marched to the chair where my stylist seemed to bouncing from one foot to the other in anticipation.  A gleeful giggle and then she got busy.  First the scissors then the razor.  An hour later, I was whirled around again and I almost cried!  Happy tears.  Finally I had exactly what I wanted and it looked GREAT!