Picture this; a 6'2" bronzed man walks into the salon with dark locks down the middle of his back. He resembles a brunette version of Fabio. As I crane my neck to look up at this statue of a man he tells me he wants highlights. He then proceeds to take out some crusty looking blonde hair extensions out of a plastic shopping bag.
"This is the colour I want my highlights to be," he tells me as he starts to put them into his hair. Within minutes all the "clip-on" extensions are in his hair. His hair is now a blend of golden blonde highlights throughout. I can see where he is going with his look and we set up an appointment. We chose a date and time and then I ask him for his name. There is an awkward pause.
"Um, well, I'll be coming in as a girl," he says. I look at him and calmly ask, "And what will your name be?"
Of course, I will leave his name or rather her name of of this post but I'm sure you get the picture.
"This is the colour I want my highlights to be," he tells me as he starts to put them into his hair. Within minutes all the "clip-on" extensions are in his hair. His hair is now a blend of golden blonde highlights throughout. I can see where he is going with his look and we set up an appointment. We chose a date and time and then I ask him for his name. There is an awkward pause.
"Um, well, I'll be coming in as a girl," he says. I look at him and calmly ask, "And what will your name be?"
Of course, I will leave his name or rather her name of of this post but I'm sure you get the picture.
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