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Bouffant in Borjomi
Submitted by Tiffany on 7 June, 2009 - 14:59
Picture the scene, Thelma was all loaded up ready to head north up to the Chechnya border when I decided to stop at the cashpoint on the way out of town- unfortunately the machine swallowed my card, though luckily it had managed to dispense my cash first. So I am stuck here until the bank opens tomorrow (today is Sunday), at least I have got some money to drown my sorrows with Kazbegi Lager.
I also need the beer for another reason, I went to the hairdresser yesterday, and as my sister likes to say, "some you win and some you lose" this was most definitely a lose situation.
My hair had got quite long, almost to my waist- so it was in need of a cut, also on the practical side of things I am getting through my extremely small bottle of shampoo quite quickly, less hair = less shampoo. I found a hairdressing salon and used sign language to indicate how much I wanted trimmed off. I suppose it was a bit of a mistake in the first place to go get your hair cut by someone that you share no common language with. She started cutting and inquired if
"madam would like layers cut into it?"
I was feeling reckless and told her to go ahead with the layers (they seem to be the in-thing with Georgian women these days). I did draw the line at a fringe though, I don't think I've had one of those since I was twelve.
40 minutes later I walked out with a bouffant hairdo which had been blow-dried and sprayed to within an inch of its life and was at a variety of angles. It was shorter than I expected and later when I removed my helmet after a half hour ride, I looked like Suzi Quatro circa 1975, today it resembles more of a Farrah Fawcett- not sure whether to just keep my helmet on all the time.
Leon, the biking sidekick from Manchester who is currently in town didn't even notice the difference, not sure whether that says more about my drama queen reaction to it or the male powers of observation.