I hate going to the hairdressers!

Today heralded one of the as 'infrequent as possible' trips to the hairdresser, there was no escaping the fact that my once neatly trimmed locks were beginning to favour an Old English Sheepdog and so the appointment was made and off I set this afternoon with the usual lack of glee such trips hold for me.

Things as ever were not to progress easily, though on this occasion that was due for the main part to my own stupidity. Let me explain.

My hairdresser left her usual emporium of employment a few months back after some altercation with her boss. Things were looking good, twice she came to my home to do the deed, a far more preferable option than the trek into town and tolerating of the usual hoo ha. But this happy state of affairs (for me not her I might add) was not to continue and soon she was re-employed, it was to this new salon I was to go today.

Only I didn't listen when I was told the name and address of said business premises. Instead I thought to myself that I could easily find it, the town afterall is not big. I thought I knew the address and I thought I knew where that address was.....wrong!

Having scampered, now late, the length of the street had I imagined my port of call to be situated on, I realised that the street name was not the one I expected. Plan A having failed it was onto plan B, look for the shop name....er...suddenly it became very apparent to me that this was another vital piece of information I somehow had ignored!

As I mulled over my options I noticed I was stood outside the police station, that's it I thought, I'll just pop in there and ask, there's bound to be a civilian on the front desk who will help me. Bear in mind this is a small town, the local bobbies mostly know me from work and they know I have to attend court to give evidence soon. Well after today's embarrassing debacle I doubt they think I'm fit to organise a child's tea party let alone be a reliable witness.

I had imagined having a quick conversation, being given directions to the street I wanted and exiting....if only it had been that simple! I was met by change by a police officer just inside the door and in the foyer were a number of people all just pertinently positioned to hear my stupidity! Gah.

So I asked a little meekly for directions to the street I wanted and was duly given them....but I protested that I knew there was no hairdressers on that street. I should have known better, oh silly, silly me, I should have taken my window of opportunity when it presented itself and fled, but no, I was having an utterly 'stupid' day. The bobby tried again, asking the name of the establishment I was looking for. At this point I just knew I was about to be horribly embarrassed....who on earth goes to the local nick to ask the way to a hairdressers? Stumped I muttered that I didn't know the name, the look on his face said it all. I mumbled some more that it had a name something like 9/11 but that no one could possibly name a hair salon that, so I must be wrong...maybe, I offered pathetically, it was 7/11, I had some recollection by now that the name included the number eleven.....but I was rambling by this point, as one does when one is mortally embarrassed.

I was dying a death here, the officer landed with me obviously doubted my sanity, the onlookers were sniggering and I was stood there blustering like a fool just wanting to escape......but things were to get worse yet!

"You think the name has an eleven in it do you" the officer asked me, "yes" I replied, just wishing I could get the hell out and go find it myself now. "Ah", came his reply, "I think I might know the place you are looking for". relieved that I might soon escape I awaited his direction....but no word came, instead he took me by the arm, propelled me politely out of the door to the pavement and pointed straight ahead. "is that the place you're after I wonder" he said.....and there, directly opposite us was a salon with the words in foot high letters along the front saying 'Hair @ eleven"!!!

Need I say more.......to add insult to injury my hairdresser, who was waiting for me wondering where I had got too, was stood in the window laughing for all she was worth! Bitch!

Please, I don't ever want to be reminded of this incident again, I'm off to crawl into a big fat hole of embarrassed stupidity now.