(If you don't know who Shelby is . . . please read prior story)
The good news is that my haircut was one of the cutest "do's" that I have ever gotten! (Is "gotten" a word?---it looks weird) . . .
The bad news is that my cute haircut was for SHELBY . . . "Oh, well . . . I tell myself, I'll just have to be Shelby everytime I get my haircut by my newly hired beautician. No worries.
I went around that next month showing off my cute haircut. Everyone agreed it was so cute as it perfectly framed my face. Unfortunately, an old high school friend of mine ran into me while I was prancing around with my new haircut and she thought it was so cute that she wanted her hair cut just like it!
She literally ran into me, looked at my hair and exclaimed, "LaRae! Your hair is soooo cute!"
Fluffing the wisps around my face I answered, "I know, huh!" The last time she had seen me, I had long straight straggly hair---which I probably cut myself.
After tons of praise about my darling hair, she asks, "Who cuts your hair?"
I tell her the name of my newly hired beautician.
"Where is her salon?" she prods.
I proudly tell her.
Then she asks, "Do you mind if I go to her and have her cut my hair like yours?"
"Oh, not at all," I say without thinking. Then I remember what happened at my first appointment when I told her my name was Shelby, but my checks were in the name of LaRae---cuz---LaRae was my nickname---and for some reason, I put my nickname on my checks.
I caution, "Nancy, when you go to get your haircut by my newly hired beautician, tell her that you want your hair cut like Shelby's."
"Huh? How come?"
Believing that my newly hired beautician bought the whole story of my real name being Shelby, even though my checks said LaRae, I explain the situation that happened. She laughs---she knew me too well, cuz she didn't even question the story. That was rude.
Seven weeks go by and I realize I need another hair cut . . . so . . . I call my newly hired beautician and make another appointment under the name of Shelby.
I keep my appointment with my newly hired beautician. She washes my hair, combs it out and asks how I want it cut. "Just like last time, " I tell her. Although I'm thinking, "Duh."
While cutting my hair, I notice that she isn't raving on about how cute my name is like she did the last time. I try to bring it up. She plays like she doesn't hear me. I bring it up again---still no reponse. "What's up with her?" I wonder.
Dropping my "let's talk about how cute the name of Shelby is" goal, we just make small talk.
Then, outta the blue she says, "Um . . . I cut your friend Nancy's hair the other day."
"You did? Well, she liked my hair so much that she asked me for your name, so I gave it to her."
"Thanks."
Wanting to continue making small talk, I add, "We went to high school together."
"Yes, that's what she said."
I notice that my newly hired beautician has a real sly look on her face. I'm thinkin', "Hmmm . . . maybe she has gas."
Then she lowers the boom! With that annoying sly expression, she confesses, "I know that your name is NOT Shelby."
"Crud! The jig is up!" I whisper to myself--but I don't say anything to her---too stunned. I just gulp.
She continues, "Nancy told me the whole story when I cut her hair."
Gulp. "That rat!" I mumble.
Seeing that all the color had completely left my already pale face, she tries to pacify me by saying, "I think it's funny." Seeing my face turning blue, she continues, "Really! It's okay! I understand!"
Dead silence.
Thinking that I might be the first client that she ever loses in her chair, she continues to humor me, talk to me, revive me---anything. She sees my glossy eyes and blue face and asks, "Are you okay?"
"Abba-Dee," I mutter.
She quickly finishes up my darling hair cut---I throw her the cash that I remembered to bring and I got the heck outta there---never to return. Too bad, cuz my newly UNHIRED beautician gives a pretty mean haircut---Crud.
I get in my car and let loose. "That dang Nancy! She sang like a canary---what a stool pigeon---what a rat fink!"
LESSON LEARNED: Never trust anyone to back up my lies
