Hairdresser

It is absolutely tedious to transcribe 5 hours of tapes at work. I rushed out of there at 4:00 pm and did some errands for the family. Then it was time to treat myself. Back to the biker hairdresser. He looks at the ceiling and asks me - do you think the drywall work is good? No I didn't, I told him. THEN WHY DIDN'T YOUR HUSBAND DO IT. Fortunately, he asked me this after he colored and cut my hair. Why do you have to get me involved in this, I thought. I just wanted to sit in the salon chair, and have my hair washed and scalp massaged by a handsome young thing and be friggin' done with it. This horribly loud, more overweight than me, customer comes in. She's yakking away about spas and jacuzzis. I'm trying to get into the conversation but she ignores me. Fine. Maybe it's my accent. My Nasty daughter - who decided to accompany me to the hairdresser "to watch him" has a conversation with her. The loud customer is yelling at me while I am having my hair blowdried. WHY DON'T YOU PUT HER IN A BETTER FRAMEWORK??? What on earth is that woman on about? I figured it probably had to do with school and the only one subject my daughter is learning this year or the fact that my hairdresser is complaining that my daughter quit her job with him and is working with catering. I didn't know which it was. And I didn't fucking care. I told the nudnik lady nicely - I can't hear you - and that was the end of that. Sheesh. Between nudnik and the complaining hairdresser, my Nasty daughter didn't seem so bad this evening. We walked back together, talking about body shapes, she blaming me for her having small boobs - and we laughed as some guy catches our girls only conversation from his front balcony.