However, perhaps I'm shedding some of my Scandinavian baggage, or I've finally crossed over to the dark side - also called being friendly and affectionate in some parts of the world - where friends exchange bras in the middle of a drunken party (true SA story), kiss each other on the mouth while wishing 'compliments' of the new year (also a true SA story, and yes, I've yet to fully recover from the shock), or comfortably discuss their Kegle-experiences in a unisex setting (a true MX story, and yes, afterwards I had to google Kegle, the prude that I am), since I actually seem to have found a hair salon where I can go without feeling an overwhelming urge to bring the hubby, or a friend to help me through the ordeal.
I even got highlights.
In this Gary Rom salon I can actually relax and enjoy the experience. The stylists, and the entire staff in fact, are super cool, never up your butt about the awesome natural tone to your hair,or overly aggressive with their chosen line of products. Instead they are jokey amongst themselves making the client feel included in the jokes, while giving her the breathing room she needs to survive someone wielding a pair of scissors an inch from her eyes, and they are definitely not fake. The people, not the eyes, that is. And as a total bonus, what I before considered an instrument undoubtedly inspired by the Chinese art of water torture - the washing station - in this salon gives you a very nice, yet mechanical, back massage.
I wonder whether, after our time in SA is up, I can justify jet-setting to Jo'burg for my hair appointments? Must start working on the hubby already now, and device an ingenious plan... Muahahahahahah (world domination laugh in case it's not obvious).
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