The Hairdresser

"To the only Jewish girl with an Afro," was written in my high school yearbook. Finding someone who can cut my hair has been a lifelong challenge.

Of course, only a cross between Edward Scissorhands and Jerry Springer will do.

The Hairdresser had a hacking cough when I arrived. I asked her if she was OK and she said, "Not really. I've got a nasty sinus infection." I asked her if she was taking antibiotics. She replied, "Yeah. I'm taking my dog's."

She then continued to fill me in on her latest drama. Three months ago when I last saw her, her boyfriend's brother was the victim of a homicide staged as a suicide. She told me how her boyfriend moved in and the ordeal that ensued.

When I asked her how she and he were coping, the Hairdresser replied," I threw him, his daughter and grandkid out two days after I saw you. His ex girlfriend told me he was cheating on me the whole time. What a loser." Her pit bulls were involved in his eviction.

As she relayed the sordid details and continued to hack, she told me how I should consider straightening my hair with a "natural formaldehyde" Keratin treatment. The only glitch is I'll have to be fully garbed in a Hazmat suit to get the treatment since formaldehyde is linked to cancer and birth defects in unborn fetuses.

Of course, The Hairdresser worked her magic. Now, let's just hope I can stay well enough before the Iceland adventure.