I was tempted to go even further with my critique, and dub “Tru Colors” the worst hair salon in the universe, but then I realized that there might possibly be a more despicable experience to be had on Mars. I mean, in addition to cringe-worthy “customer service,” on the Red Planet, you wouldn’t have access to sufficient oxygen, either. It’s pretty dusty there, too, which is never good for my tresses. And by the time you got back from your million mile plus journey, you’d need to schedule another trim, pronto. So I’m sticking to “worst in Wyo.” 

The horror, the horror: I went to a new ”stylist” because my everyday diva was booked up and I had a conflict with the appointment I’d made in advance. Never again. Next time I will take the scissors straight to my own jugular rather than let a strange chick at my head.

In addition to a long list of minor offenses, starting off with dirty floor and moving along to crappy shampoo job, here’s the worst: this dumb broad answered her cell phone TWICE while I was in her chair, then she attempted to CUT MY HAIR WITH THE PHONE UNDER HER CHIN.

I know Sheridan doesn’t have a branch of Devachan, but neither is it located on the dark side of the moon. Silly me, expecting common courtesy from a stranger.

I’ll be the one in pigtails and baseball caps ’til my diva’s schedule clears in August….