I've got more hair on the left-hand side of my head than on the right-hand side.
I know this because I've been told so by various hairdressers, the most recent just yesterday when I was having my hair cut.
They've also told me that this condition is really common but I can't say I'm convinced.
I mean, I've never had one person say, "Yeah, me too," when I've mentioned it in conversation, which admittedly I don't do very often because then everyone would know I have a sub-standard scalp.
Sometimes I wonder if my life would've turned out differently if my hair follicles had been more evenly distributed.
As in, maybe people would take me more seriously.
Maybe the asbestos-fence removers wouldn't have dicked me around for six weeks if I'd been able to say from the get-go, "Listen mate, you're dealing with someone who has an exceptional follicle-to-skin ratio."
As it was, the bloke on the other end of the phone kept me waiting for ages, called me "dear" five times in 90 seconds and then instructed me to jiggle my phone plug in the socket because there was interference on the line and it had to be at my end because, "It was fine until you rang, dear."
Follicularly unbalanced as I am, my brain was urging me to tell him that Dear would be popping over shortly to rip out his voice box via his rectum and maybe go over a few points he'd failed to assimilate at customer-service school.
But seeing as his was the only asbestos removal company I could find in the phone book, I said things like "Thank you" and "Sorry" and "No worries" instead.
Not that it made any difference. I ended up calling him three more times, was called "dear" a total of 21 times and was eventually sent a red herring called Les.
Les knocked on the door and said he'd be here to remove the fence on the Wednesday or, no, hang on, probably the weekend, depending on the kids' sporting fixtures.
That was three weeks ago.
Then my husband rang and, hey, guess what, two blokes came round the very next morning and removed the fence.
In the meantime, in an effort not to go completely insane, I've been busy establishing an Unbalanced Head Support Group. You're welcome to join even if your head's normal.
14 comments:
The French equivalent is an aging roué in the hard wear shop.
He believes himself to be every woman's idea of a Frenchman, flashing his eyes and flinging his hair all over the place, (a graying Mullet!) and I suspect with that oily smile, thinks he's totally irristable.
He drolly calls me Mademoiselle... every other word. I'm 55!
How I long to kick him.
GG
Well I've got a two grey hairs at the age of 17 if that makes you feel any better. Does it? (Well I don't anymore, my girlfriend accidentally pulled one of them out)
That'd be so weird/cool/emotionally crippling if you started to go bald... only from left to right instead of front to back! Your hair slowly recedes across your head until it looks like someone split your face down the middle and shaved half of it. Awesome.
I do not like being called dear, love or missus, i feel they are a bit derogatory and makes me feel like they think they are smart and I do not know what I am talking about. This type of speech used to be regular when I was a builder. You can imagine how i chose the people to work for me. If I was called any of those three they did not get to work for me. The other beauty was "can i talk to your husband" they obviously presumed he was the builder and i was just the missus who knew nothing.
Here in the boonies of France you know you are dealing with a prat once he starts calling you 'ma petite dame'. You know from then on he will not listen to a word you say, cock up whatever job you have hired him to do and present you with a bill which will make your eyes water.
I tried getting the man in my life to make the telephone calls, but he reported that when he got someone calling him 'mon cher monsieur' the outcome would be the same.
All I can say is that 'equality' is being respected as between the sexes but the workmanship is uniformly lousy.
Birgitta: YOU'RE A BUILDER AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?! I certainly could've done with your advice when we first moved here. The quotes we had for a simple rectangular extension ranged from $70,000 to $240,000 (seriously). Once we'd regained consciousness, we decided not to bother. Luckily we've since been blessed with St Laurie the builder and the Archangel Terry (his brickie). They are prince among men - and cheap.
Bilby: I really like the way you think outside the square. I hadn't thought of the bald, emotionally crippled angle. I'll make sure I post a pic when it happens.
GG and Fly: we live in mullet-rich town. Over here they're called bogans but they rip you off in much the same ways. Must admit though that an ageing roue and a prat with an exotic accent would make a nice change.
Ooopss..Sorry Michelle! I can believe those quotes. St Laurie and Archangel Terry sound human. If ever you would like to pick my brains (as in opinions) fire away.
Thanks Birgitta.
Firstly Michele, you've got less hair on one side because that's the side you favour to sleep on. Mine is the same. Hope that makes you feel better (does me anyway, even if I did just make it up).
Secondly, I swear I'm going to bite the face off the next bloke that calls me dear or love. I can't even bring myself to call and old person by those endearments. Apart from grumpy bum (husband), the dogs are the only ones I do that to.
Thanks dear (just kidding). The asbestos removers and the renderers actually turned up on the same day. I felt like I should've hired a brass band or something.
Hooray, someone else with "odd" hair. The left side of my hairdo is always good, lovely and thick and looks great. The right side is thin and flat, and I can never get it to look decent. The thing is, I'm hopeless at using a hair drier, so I just let my hair do it's own thing, which usually isn't the thing I want it to do. Now that I'm older, I'm resigned to things not doing what I want them to do, so it doesn't bother me any more, but it is still rather strange, isn't it.
Suzanne
How's a bottle of red instead of the brass band?
WRT hair habits, lucky comb-overs aren't one of those cringeable traits your gender persists in partaking in, in the name of vanity.
I can't believe that blokes think hair grown on one side of the head and forcefully draped over the top is a good looking fashion statement. One puff of wind, and presto, a side mullet.
If you are going bald, do it gracefully, or, "Hey Hey", go see Greg Matthews or Warney for some follicular upgrade advice. BUT DON"T COMB OVER!!!
I noticed this bloke one day who had a horizontal line across the back of his head, and wondered what it was. To my horror, I realised it was a part, that extended from one ear to the other around the back of his head. He had combed his mullet over the top to become his fringe and secured it down with some "product".
The things you see when you don't have a wide-combed handpiece!
hee hee, side mullets. It's really windy down here, you see them all the time.
Suzanne and Birgitta: you're my kind of dears. Funny hair and fond of the bottle.
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