What joy, it’s hair salon day. I go to one where the stylist has his hair cut into 5 different levels, in the front he’s got super long pink bangs, in the back it’s cut into squares and each a different color, and calls us all Darling, and tells us that we have divine hair and a wonderful skull.
I tell him I want him to give me California highlights and I want my bangs cut because I'm tired of my current look.
Yes Darling, of course, you'll look divine with what I’m going to do.
He begins to prepare my hair for dyeing, meanwhile he’s telling me all about his life, and when he has already put hair coloring on the the front part and is going to start on the back of my neck, suddenly he lets out a deafening scream and says, OH MY GOD!, YOU HAVE LICE.
Bam!, the whole hair salon is looking at me. I feel so ashamed, I wanted to die. Just my luck, the plague that’s been going on at school has been passed on to me.
I don’t know what to say, so I say, that’s strange, you must have given them to me.
Me?, Look Sweetheart (I'm not Darling anymore) you don’t have just a louse here, you have the Disney World of lice, families with children.
Sorry but I I have to ask you to leave the premises.
Whhaatt? I say.
No, no, I cannot jeopardize the rest of my clientele because of a careless customer who comes in here infected with lice. - And he says this loud and clear so that all the other customers will hear it, who now all look at me as if I were some filthy person.
But I can’t leave like this with my hair half-dyed, can’t you wash out the hair coloring?
Rinse out the dye, you say? And fill the entire hair salon with lice, no, I’m going to throw away everything that has been in contact with you right now.
They brought me my jacket and literally took me to the door, which they shut in my face.
There you have me in the middle of the street with my hair up and all over the place and all the brown dye around my face. The hairdresser is not close to my house so I had come by bus, and I was not going back home on one.
I decided to hail a taxi, so I walked to the sidewalk to see if any cabs were going by, when I feel a tap on my shoulder, I looked and it was my brother-in-law.
He says, What are you doing in the middle of the street with that mess of hair and your dye still on?
It’s just that I have lice and they threw me out of the salon, and now I was hailing a cab.
And he answers dying of laughter: wait a minute while I laugh and then I'll take you home, I have my motorcycle right there.
Your motorcycle? And how am I going to wear a helmet, you cannot take me on your motorbike.
Don’t worry, of course you can put the helmet on, I’ll put a plastic shopping bag on your head and you can put the helmet on on top.
I sound like a great idea, I'm eager to get home, mostly because the dye is getting past its time limit and I only have one part of my hair colored.
So I put the supermarket bag on, the bag’s handles are dangling over my ears, and at that moment I realize that my brother-in-lawhas taken a picture of me and has sent it to our “Family” chat, with the caption: Hello! I’m Hello Kitty.
I’m going to kill him, if it weren’t for the fact that seeing myself with the bag on my head is funnier to me than it is to him, I would have killed him. But this always happens to me with my brother-in-law, he always radiates good humor and makes me laugh.
I put on my helmet and begin to get messages: Where are you guys, what's going on, hahahaha.
Why do you have a shopping bag on your head?
They have thre her out of the hairdresser’s because she has lice.
You can’t have any privacy in this family.
I put on my helmet, I strap it and after a while, with the heat that gets generated, the dye starts dripping down my face. With the wind on the bike, it spreads all over the place and when I get home, my entire face is stained, I look like a cheaply done impersonator of King Balthasar from the Three Wise Men.
When my brother-in-law gets off the bike and looks at me, for a moment he’s left without knowing what to say when he sees my face and then he starts laughing hysterically, and I start laughing too, so as not to cry.
Go on up to your house, wash your hair and your face, then when you're done, I'll take you out for a celebratory bite and we can have a drink and a snack together.
So here I am, right in the middle of my horrible week, with a brown face, two-tone hair color, having a beer with my brother-in-law and with the rest of the family, who have come to see what it looks like when you put dye in your hair and go for a ride on a motorcycle.
The lengths you one has to go to to get them all together!