A few weeks ago, I went to the hair salon across my apartment to have a hair cut. The last time I was there, it is more than a year ago. Originally, after she chopped off my hair, give it a good blow
job dry and apply all those chemicals on my top, my hair looks like figure one. I was all happy and grinning.
After I walked for about 5 minutes to get back home in the hot, burning afternoon sun, my hair was like figure 2. My kids went, “OMG, mom what have you done to your head?”
After that, I went into the kitchen to get lunch for them. When I got out of the kitchen, my sons exclaimed, “MOM! You look like an African.”
So, all was well. My kids have caustic tongues. I am fine with it. Actually, I quite love the shorter hair because I never have to comb it or put any hair clips. At times, I purposely make it wilder by scrunching it with hair mousse.
Then, one day, while we were having our choir practice, we were asked to stand in a bunch at the church altar which has steps. I am one of the four female choir members who are 5′ 6″ tall. So, I happily stood there with the rest of the tall one. Suddenly my choir master, Gerard shouted, “Lilian, you have to come down one step. I can’t see Martin. Your hair is too big.”
It is still ok because Gerard memang like that. We are used to his tongue.
But last week, our choir members which totalled over 40 persons went to this concert to sing a few songs. There wasn’t any aircond, not even fan and I was wearing one of those carollers ‘uniform’ of a red blouse and long pants. It happened to be my new blouse and pants so you can imagine how hot it was. Steam was practically shooting out of every hair folicles. Sweats run down everyone’s face. The guys’ shirts are all wet and stucked to their back. Make-up was flowing down some of the girls.
So, my hair was like figure 3, the red face. Still, I am ok with it because we were there to serve the Lord. Amen.
But….here comes the part where the volcano blew. I am very scared of this one person whom always turned around to stare at us kelefeh sopranoes should someone sang out of tune. She is always scolding people. She is like almost 60 years, single, with hair permed nicely….You know…Get the image yet?
Normally, I try to sit far-far away from her to avoid kena her critics. Like duh, I know I am lousy but I am here to serve the Lord, not to perform solo. Amen.
You know what……she pulled me to the side. Tell me, “Your hair is very untidy.” OMG, OMG, I felt like a little school girl being scolded by the nun who used to run those missionary convent schools. Then, she showed me how to tame the hair. She pushed her own, curly wurly hair back and told me to do it on the spot! I didn’t budge and told her my hair is like that. But no….she took my handbag and music book and insisted I do it!
What to do….kena follow la. I dare not tell her, “Oi, my hair wild-wild, wet-wet like that damn sexy wei. This one is the latest fashion you know….Boys and big boys all hanker for these sort of carefree style lah. Not auntie-auntie like yours lah. That’s why i married liao, you still single mah.” Dare not say anything, only meekly follow or else she dragged me by my ears to go for confession right there on the spot with the French priest. Sei lor….kena behave mah.
*haih* When will afro hair-style come back in fashion, you say?