Beauty Parlor Talk or How I Broke My Husband’s Ribs

by LeavingAustin

I punched my husband…how do you like your color?

One of the hardest things about moving across the country is finding new hairdressers, dry cleaners, coffee shops (whoops don’t have one of those here), grocery stores, and so on. I thought I’d found a great salon. And then…

There are some things that you just cannot make up.

I walked into my beauty parlor aka Aveda Salon wearing a special shoe protecting my broken toe that I’m telling everyone I broke it  two-steppin’ at the Broken Spoke Saloon.  That got my stylist talking about her finger and how she didn’t think it was just jammed but broken too.

Me: How did you break it?

Stylist: I punched my husband. Broke three of his ribs too.

Me: Uh. I guess that’s the end of things.

Stylist: No. I just got tired of him breaking things around the house when he gets stressed.  But at least he replaces them.

If this happened in Texas, I think she would have pulled a gun on him. Put an end to him breaking things for good.

Anyway, I think I’ll continue my search for a salon.  What if this guy decides he’s had enough of her and decides to come into the salon while she’s working on my hair…

Maybe it’s time for Aveda to provide its stylists with training about what’s TMI!

The part about The Broken Spoke — it’s made up. I really broke my toe by running into a chair.

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