Happiness comes in a box of Clairol

When a woman entrusts someone to cut and color her hair it is, quite frankly, equivalent to allowing someone to watch your offspring. It is absolutely crucial to find someone who understands your hair type, tendincies, and lifestyle in order to successfully achieve a repeat customer. I have found this in B boy, who although is married, I am certain if single would totally be my next conquest. Regardless, to my dismay, many other women have found him to be wonderful and are flocking to him in droves. This has made it nearly impossible to book an appointment, and for me, one of his very first patrons, upset that everyone now knows my secret weapon. Nonetheless, I was able to finally book an appointment on Friday morning and was greeted quite warmly.

I sat down to chit chat about my hair and what we were looking at doing. Desperately, in need of a cut was obvious. He was able to squeeze me in for a color, one of the perks of being a loyal client. I have been blondish for almost 5 years now and have grown tired of it. B boy and I agreed new cut meant new color and ironically, he suggested my natural color. I gasped, as most women would. Who the hell is natural anymore? Apparently, as fashion conscious as I am, I did not get the memo that darker, raven colored gals are the hot trend for winter. Whatever the case, I decided naturally dark would still be different and what the hell? I trusted B boy more than my own family because he has never failed to deliver on a promise of perfection.

2 hours later, with a renewed sense of my entire being, I walked out feeling more than just an average person. I felt like a changed woman. I felt alive and sexy, something I haven't felt like since the last ex. My attitude was positive and upbeat and I felt like the world belonged to me. Maybe happiness is only a box of Clairol away.