I went to the mall the other day to get my hair braided, because I enjoy the torture and because my hair looked like shit sprinkled with warm death..mmm sexy.
Discovery Channel should do a documentary on the African Braid Shop..complete foolishness.
You can rest assured that when you arrive for your appointment, one or all these things will be true:
1. If you are the first client in the morning, the shop will be fucking filthy..I swear, it never fails...so you will then be forced to wait another 30 minutes while they clean up.
2.When you ask one of the 3 million braiders in there where your braider is, an argument will break out among them..in a foreign language that sounds kinda like french...with lots of tooth sucking.
3. When your braider finally arrives, expect a 10 minute "discussion" about the price...you agreed to one price earlier but now it's something different..usually MORE money.
4. The braider will then try to tell you that "this style won't work for you with the hair you bought"..even though SHE just did the SAME style on you, using the SAME hair, last month.
5. Even though it is your "practice and tradition" to bring your own GOOD QUALITY hair, they will try to get you to buy the shitty, overpriced plastic doll hair that they have in their shop..and will go on and on about it..
6. Even though you came here to relax, read a book or watch tv while you get your hair done, your braider will make you hand her the hair, and as soon as you get the hang of the size she wants you to hand her, she will then change her mind, suck her teeth some more and make you hand her different sizes..damn damn damn! Why can't this heffa get an assistant or a stool or something??
7. They don't do ANY kind of haircuts or styling so if you want it to look like this:
YOU'LL HAVE TO STYLE IT YOUR DAMN SELF!! (No this is not me but we ALL pose in stripper dresses like this when we get our hair done)
And of course, by the end, your scalp will look and feel like it has stitches..ouch..
No, this is not my hair or forehead..but it's really close to what mine looks like..but mine looks better...ha.
So go ahead and pop a couple of 800 mg Motrin horse pills on the way home, otherwise there will be no sleep for you tonight.
And I continue to put up with this shit every couple of months because I am a slack ass that doesn't like to "do" hair...and it looks cute..and when it grows in a little, people think its your real hair...and that's all that counts.
As I was leaving the mall parking lot, I noticed a store that had a big, pretty red sign that read:
A whole store dedicated to dried meat...Belly would probably faint if he saw that.
Oh, to be a fly on the wall during this guy's "pitch" to his wife...
Husband: Honey!! I quit my job!!
Wife: Um, huh?
Husband: I wanna open a Beef Jerky store!! Trust me, it'll be GREAT!!
Yeah, I'm sure that ended with him being beaten about the head and chest..and a divorce.
Oh, and one last thing....
An old lady sharked me for a parking space yesterday.. Shouldn't she have a handicapped placard or something?? Oh!! and this broad had the nerve to give me a dirty look when I drove by....wtf?
Is it bad that I wanted to run her ass over as she hobbled her old self into the store?
I know, I'm mean...but my hair is cute.