Bad Hair Day = Bad Luck Day

I have experience occations or a day when all unhappy events happen in an unforgettble formulaic sequence. When such moments arrived, I declared the day to be my 'bad luck day'. Then, as if by a bad omen, more unusually 'bad luck' occurences started lining up to make my day worse.

Yesterday was the start of a feel good weekend. On friday, after a week of hard work, I decided to make the best out of the weekend, and enjoy myself to the fullest. Taking my mind off work and not answering any stress-related messages sounded like a good start - and it did. Until the moment I decided to have a haircut.

Hair is the most important accessory of a 21st century modern-minded career woman. Style your hair right, and you can survive the worst traffic jam, or the most stubborn photocopier machine. Style your hair wrong... well, a typo error could immensely worsen your day.

After owning two fantastic hairstyles, my hair grew out of the second one, and was beginning to resemble the mop in the back of the cleaning cupboard of my kitchen, so I decided that it was time to pick up the third fantastic hairstyle this weekend. I went to sleep dreaming about my new hairstyle on Friday night.

Saturday arrived, and I went back to hairsalon that faithfully gave me the first two outstanding styles. I was excited to fastforward to the moment my hair receives its brand new look. But when I pushed open the door, and saw the salon packed with aunties and young girls, I could see an invisible hammer smashing my dream to pieces. Every female in Singapore was fighting to get a good hairstyle by Chinese New Year - guess we all think alike. Unfortunately, the difference between them and me is an advance call to the salon to take up a one liner in the record book. Thus, besides glares and stares from everyone crammed up in the tiny salon, I was also welcomed by the stylists' fashionable backs - they had been so busy since morning, they had not even the time to take a toilet break, or to inform me that they had been busy since morning.

I left the place feeling a bit down. That was when the bad luck started. The sun started beaming its ferocious rays at me, with a vengeance to turn me into a charcoal, and the taxis were beginning to avoid me. I go on this street, they jam up the opposite one; I switched sides, they turn to jam up the previous one that I had been on. When I finally gotten into the back of a cab, after thirty minutes of being under the tyranny of the Sun, I was fuming with anger. I was starting to get a little bit personal with the salon. I decided that I will get my third fantastic hairstyle at another salon. The anger of standing under the Sun playing hide and seek with the taxis made me desperate in proving myself correct. So I went home, take out my laptop and start researching.

In the evening, I made my way to the hairsalon and waited excitedly to get my third fantastic haircut. My nerves quieten down while the stylist did her magic with my hair. After an hour, I looked myself in the mirror, I was horrified. Staring back at me was a middle age aunty. My superstitious self started to surface, I paid the stylist with a weak smile and hastily left the place.

Why hadn't I paid attention to the signs? The taxi hide and seek and the smashing of my dream at Hair Salon A earlier today. Why didn't I see this coming? There had already been hints of my bad luck for the day. I shouldn't have gotten the haircut today. Being a day of bad luck, EVERYTHING can go wrong. Even the toilet bowl will not flush properly after I use it.

Fighting to ignore all the glares from people who walked passed me, I raced back home and locked myself indoors. I decided to seal in my fate of possessing the world's ugliest hairstyle, until my brother suggested a hairsalon for me to save my hair. I had to wait until the next day, and with the utter disappointment from my new haircut, I had no mood to enjoy the first day of a supposed nice relaxing weekend.

When Sunday arrived, I jumped out of bed, grabbed my sister and dashed to VivoCity's TEAM SALON. After another round of hide and seek with the taxis, we took the faithful train to Harbour Front and arrived at the doorstep of the salon my brother had mentioned to me last night.

Immediately I was sent to a seat, and almost at once, a hairstylist greeted me. He was also kind enough to greet my ridiculous hair style. We discussed about the blunt style my hair received, and what could be done to shape it up, he started working almost immediately. The conversations we had were very relaxing, and the stylist appeared very skilful with his scissors, so my nerves finally ease down for the day. When he was done, I felt elated once again. I could see myself staring back at me once again. The world felt good once again.

The bad luck seemed to have disappear with the fourth new hairstyle because I was able to get a good seat in SushiTei without having to wait for an exceptionally long time. I'm not sure about the taxis, but frankly they were never there when you need them. At least, I'm very sure my bad day is over.