The consequences of cheating

By Brittney Durbin

So today I did something awful…

I cheated on my hairstylist. 

And boy, it was quite the experience! Here’s the story:

So I wasn’t even going to get my hair done while in Spain, but last week I was using my hair straightener and the power converter failed me, thus causing a severe burning of the lower layer of my hair and the death of my $100 straightener.

R.I.P. my poor little chi.

Anyway, a few days ago my friend found this hair salon down the street and it looked like it would do the job well enough, so I made an appointment for this morning at 9 a.m.

However, when I showed up at 9 sharp, no one was there. So, I took a walk and came back about five minutes later.

By the time I returned, this older lady had come in (literally I was gone for FIVE minutes) and the hair dresser was already putting her color in! She didn’t even have an appointment!

So I waited and waited, and finally she got around to me.

To make an incredibly long story short (I just returned and it is about 11:30 a.m.) the hair dresser proceeded to do both of our hair at the same time, taking turns with one another. She also stopped to talk to her friends who came in on two different occasions, and when more people started arriving for their appointments, she quickly hurried through, chopping here and there and everywhere on my head.

Somehow she managed to make it look fine, but it definitely wasn’t the style nor the experience I was looking for. Then again, it only cost me 25 euros to get it cut and colored, so I guess you get what you paid for.

To the boys reading this, I apologize for rambling about hair, but I do have a point to this story, I promise.

Today I learned to not cheat on my hairstylist. Mary, if you are somehow reading this, I’m terribly sorry and will have my mother call to make me an appointment for when I return.

But, more importantly, I also learned something more about the Spanish culture. Sure, I was in a hair salon, but I suppose that it is yet another venue of socialization. Many people would walk in and out of the store, some to see if she (the hairstylist) was busy, and others just to chat with the customers in the store. It was a completely new and different experience, and although not super significant, it showed me another aspect to the Spanish lifestyle, in particular to the women.

And also, although I was kinda frustrated that it took forever, I did get a couple good laughs out of the old ladies gossiping at the hair salon.

With November under way, it is really starting to hit me that I’ve been here for more than two months. It feels like forever, and most days I can honestly say I’m ready to go home. Not that it isn’t interesting or awesome to be living in Spain, I just have come to the realization that I am more of a homebody than I thought.

However, with several trips coming up, I think the homesickness will pass. Next week I will have adventures from Valencia to share!

Until next time!

P.S. For anyone who is reading this and is coming to Europe to study abroad or to visit, don’t bother with the power converters for hair straighteners. I think I am the third or fourth person that had their’s fried, so either buy one when you arrive, or bring another option like a curling iron that has the proper voltage. (I have a curling wand by Remington that I got for less than $25 from Walmart, and I highly recommend it!)

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