My Love and My Quickee

I am not one to be obsessed with my hair. I normally can take it or leave it. Mainly because I do not mess with it. BUT lately…I’m having some issues…

A little background…

I have had the same hair stylist since I was 14. Had a brief affair with someone else but she did me wrong and I went back to my one true love. My one true love knew something was up but never questioned me since I came back. Being with the same love has some perks. After awhile, she knows what I like…how I like it…and what to do to get me to that point of complete satisfaction. I never have to direct. She knows when I need to try something new and she always knows what that ‘new’ is. She’s never wrong. I also can visit her whenever I want. I have a long standing appointment with my love, no matter what, every other weekend but then when I need a little extra attention, all I have to do is call and I’m slipped in. I love her….

Okay that creeped even me out…

Anywho, imagine my distress when my stylist had to have surgery on her back. I was concerned albeit, and I’m just being honest here…ALL FOR THE WRONG REASON’S!!! Yes, people, I was concerned primarily about my hair. I’ve called to check on her progress but she knows me well enough to know, I aint just concerned about her well being.

This was about 6 weeks ago. A week after I found this out, I needed a relaxer. For those who don’t know, a relaxer is a chemical that straitens your hair. What to do what to do. I tried to enlist family members to which everyone looked at me like I was crazy. I have crazy hair which means, it doesn’t do what is normal… which explains the importance of My Love. She knows me and my hair. So I called a beauty school and asked if there was anyone who could put a relaxer in my hair. She assured me that there was, they train on ethnic hair and really assured me that this was going to be all right. I even felt empowered because I could show My Love I was completely in control of the situation.

I’m sitting in the chair and the student walks up and the first words she speaks is ‘This is my first relaxer’. Ummm okay. I plaster a Joker-Like smile on my face and said ‘That’s cool…you’re the first white girl to have her hands in my hair.’ She laughed and so we kinda hit it off from that point. We chitchatted for awhile and I explained to her that I was forced to cheat on My Love due to health reasons but in no way was she to think that this was going to be a relationship….that I just needed her for a quickie…she agreed.

She started sectioning off my hair and that was a huge flag…since this is a chemical, you have to protect the scalp or it will burn the scalp so I stopped her and said ‘honey you need to put something on my scalp’. She looked very apologetic and said that she knew that but Head Honcho Instructor had forbade her to do that…so we argue a little back and forth (not mean arguing by any means) and during it Head Honcho Instructor walks over. My Quickie explains to her the dealio and she goes into a spiel of her organization not using any type of protectant since they do not use ‘lye’ relaxers…..Dumb me says…’Okay’.

She starts putting the relaxer on my edges and we continue to chitchat. Now, the texture of a relaxer is like that of glue, very thick and you have to spread it like butter. So basically you are pressing this concoction into the hair. After 2 short minutes…my scalp is tingling. I tell My Quickie and she looks at my reflection in the mirror and says ‘youre kiddin me?!’. so she starts slapping relaxer wherever she can find a hair. 2 minutes later, I tell her my scalp was reallllllllllly tingling. A very panicked look crosses her face. Head Honcho Instructor strolls by again and My Quickie grabs her and informs her that I’m already tingling and she starts in on some mombo jumbo about me processing quick blah blah blah…

By this time my head feels like you could fry an egg on it and these two are kinda arguing back and forth. I quietly say that my scalp is burning and Head Honcho Instructor is like ‘get a wet washclothe’…I ask for what and she talks some crappity crap about wiping the relaxer off. NOT going to work…I said ‘that means you are pressing it into my hair which means pressing into my scalp.’ Head Honco Instructor and My Quickie argue some more so by this time my head is on fire. I calmly said ‘just take it out’ . Head Honcho Instructor says something about it not being strait…DUDE…I don’t care. ‘Really its fine…take it out’…Head Honcho Instructor says something about there is still some ‘curl’ to which I say loudly…VERY LOUDLY ‘my head is on fire!!! Take it out NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW’.

They rush me to a shampoo booth, My Quickie, prepares everything, leans me back, gets the sprayer, aims it to the front hair line and sprays

AND I CAME UNGLUED. I swear to you…If I hadn’t been laying back at a freakishly odd angle, I would have been able to jump out of that chair and smacked the shit out of everyone in any range of fire….tears are coming, she is apologizing, Head Honcho starts over to us, takes one look at my face and I could see the indecision on her face but she HAS to come over. They turn the water completely on cold, turn it down to a trickle and try to rinse it out. I quietly ask for just one to do it so Head Honcho Instructor knows that is my queue for her to GTF away from my head and My Quickie apologizes and I swear I see tears in her eyes.

I could continue with more of that fiasco but fast forward to a week later. I’m running my fingers through my hair and I feel something in my hair. My first thought is it’s a bug and that freaks me out, so I lean over a little bit and try to shake my hair plus running my fingers through it and I feel this thing AGAIN. WTF?? I do believe whatever it is is attached to my scalp, which I immediately think of a tic and I’m literally running my hands through my hair and I feel several of these things. Damn ass scabs on my scalp….SCABS people….

Now to the present day….My head of hair is now a mess. Most people don’t really notice it but I do. I don’t always use a curling iron on my hair, so this whole curling iron thing is getting old. I don’t wash my hair so I’ve been having my niece come over and wash, blow dry and flat iron my hair (she is now in my will). And sometimes, gulp... I look like a damn chia pet. I’m close to taping My Love to one of those 2-wheeled roll carts and have my boys push her up to a sink and let her have it. You never know what your vanity is until the vain item in your life is ….gone.