i needed a haircut badly yesterday, and found a place online near my apartment. the website of the salon looked decent and the yelp reviews fine. 

i ended up at a old-lady russian salon. i am pretty sure i was the only person under the age of 55 to enter, ever. the only other customer in the salon was a lady (and yes, i am using the word "lady" with all its connotations) in curlers.

i almost ran out the door before they could sit me in the shampoo chair, but i really needed a haircut. as my mother says, i was starting to look homeless.

thinking this experience couldn't get much more hilarious (and because i'm not particularly picky about my haircuts), i settled into the shampoo chair for a scalp massage that was actually rather pleasant. i closed my eyes and listened to the relaxing music, the soft-rock love song, "lady in red."

the song ended. then began again.

i got up from my shampoo and began to get my hair cut.

the song ended. then began again.

split ends got chopped off.

the song ended. then began again.

here i was, sitting in an old-lady russian hair salon, listening to "lady in red" on loop.

i've gotten several compliments on my hair today, so i guess it looks nice. but if i ever hear "lady in red" again, i will rip off my ears.