After finishing her chores, Brianna looked in the mirror, wiped the Comet soap of her cheek, and made a decision. Stingy split ends curled awkwardly at her collarbone, and the uneven texture of her hair reminded her of a shaggy dog. It was time for a hair cut; just in time for spring.
She walked in Fantastic Sam's with complete calm and confidence- ready to shed the tangled mess. A hairdresser by the name of Barbara approached her. Barbara was around 50, with a curvy build, and fluffy blonde hair. After sitting Brianna down, she said "Who has beeen cootting zur hair??" She uttered with a heavy Scandanavian accent as she examined Brianna's sloppy, brownish copper locks. Brianna, delited with her quaint, to-the-point, European-esque employee, wasn't offended. Infact, she shamelessly admitted she hadn't been in a salon in months.
Slowly Barbara explained the extent of measures which had to be taken for her damaged-do. A snip here, an evening-out there, and her hair would be almost shoulder-length! Brianna sank into her chair slightly, and her voice revealed hesitation (but on the inside: PANIC!), "I'd like to keep my hair... as long as possible. " Willing to compromise her drastic plans, Barbara accepted this notion.
With this new lump of caution in her throat, Brianna reclined in the sink as Barbara's hands massaged the conditioner out of her hair. All of the sudden, Brianna wished she'd never have come. Through the loud sink faucet, scrubbing, and European accent, Brianna thought she heard, "Zur hair iz so rough! Vee must take more off zan vee planned.". Brianna didn't fight it.
After a half an hour of snipping and small talk, Brianna peered once again into the mirror. Brown, healthy, shoulder-length, even-ended hair looked back at her. And even though hair is just an appendage, Brianna felt cleaner and more youthful than she had felt in a while. She was happy she came.
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