Bugs

Yesterday I had a lousy day at the hair salon.

No.  Literally.

I was next in line for a haircut.  The stylist was a young woman with a long pile of dark, curly hair.  We'll call her Flashdance.

Flashdance was cutting the long, dark straight hair of a young woman we'll call the Carrier.

Flashdance paused suddenly, called to her colleague, "Hey Misty, can you come here for a minute?"

Misty, the older stylist (maybe 22?) came over.  They looked at the Carrier's head for a moment, murmured in dark tones.  Misty went away.

Then I heard:

CARRIER:  I didn't notice them.
FLASHDANCE: You usually don't until they hatch.

Now.  I don't mean to be nitpicky.  But there are three things I never want to hear in a hair salon.  They are:

1. "Lesion"
2. "Uh-oh"
3. "HATCH!"

I'm a fan of awkward social situations.  How a hair stylist ends an aborted hair cut with a lice-infested customer would normally be one I'd find interesting to observe.

But, as the Carrier got up from the chair and headed toward me I stood and, without a word, bolted out the door.

I felt I could've handled it better.  But, under the circumstances, it was the only way I could Quell my fears.

Now, I must end this post.  So I can scratch my head.  Forever.