Shampoo and Set

Just as I've decided to occasionally award a 'Hero of the Day',  so I shall also have to award an occasional 'Villain of the Day'.

The first villain's award will have to go to the girl who washed my hair in the hairdresser's yesterday.  I sat down at one of those bowl things - you know - you lean against the bowl thing and the girl stands behind you whilst she washes your hair and all the water runs down the bowl and not onto your shoulders.  There's probably a technical term for them, I just don't know what it is.

Anyway, I digress...  I sat down and the girl asked if the height of the bowl thing was ok. 'Yes,' I said, 'It's perfect'.  It was. 

She then promptly pulled the bowl up by about a centimetre.  This was now not perfect.  It was bloody agonising.  It was cutting into the back of my neck and it made me start to see stars.  

I bore the pain stoically for as long as I could (about a minute) before I asked her if she could lower the height.  'Yea,' she said as she pushed down with both hands and all her strength on the bowl.  I had to abruptly slide right down the seat in order to avoid being compressed to the size of a garden gnome.  

'Is that ok?', she chav-drawled.

... er... Let's think about this...  I'm practically horizontal in the seat, with my neck at a 90 degree angle...  Do I look ok?  But of course, I didn't say this.  She was clearly crazed and/or simple and I didn't want to enrage her.  I mean, she had me in a vulnerable position there, she could squirt shampoo in my face or something.  'That's fine', I replied and spent the next ten minutes gripping onto the arms of the surprisingly slippery chair, trying not to slide off it completely, whilst she vigorously lathered my hair.

I didn't give her a tip but perhaps I should have - "Practise saying 'Would you like to Super-Size that?'  You're gonna need it"