A Dollar’s Worth
By Alisa Dollar
Has there been a moment you looked into the mirror and cringed at white hair? If so, I hope it wasn’t after nine in the evening on a Sunday night.
I used to be blonde (please, no comments) and white caught me off guard. I didn’t think much about it because I was too busy and didn’t really care. And besides, it was premature and I didn’t feel older.
That particular night my hair made me glaringly mature. Advice–don’t ask husband what he thinks, especially if the Dallas Cowboys are fumbling about.
I went to my favorite grocery store on a blonde mission. My favorite because they seemed to understand last minute “drat I forgot’ type cooks. This time I sought younger hair.
I couldn’t believe how many blonde colors were available and in so many brands! Since it was Sunday and God had blessed me with nice authentic color blonde that surely this fake blonde would be no less sanctified.
Perhaps it was the piped music rather than a sign of powerful recommendation on high because my hair did not even remotely resemble the hair color on the box.
I was mortified and hyperventilating through what seemed to be strangled screams while gasping for breath.
My hair was green; not even a nice shade of green. It was gag green if you get my meaning.
I called my preacher’s wife who, in addition to that, owned a hair salon.
“Alisa, what have you done?” is how she answered the phone. I’d like to think because it was nearly eleven, but she added “to your hair.”
I cried in one long sentence what I’d done, the color and how could I go to work with green hair?
She told me to meet her at the shop. I said no I don’t think anything can be done except shave my head and I wasn’t ready for that.
“Have a little faith, Alisa,” she replied a bit sternly.
“Yeah right—that’s why it’s green.”
She didn’t laugh but definitely pegged the exact color number and brand I’d bought admonishing me all the while she was working on my green head. The scary thing, I wasn’t allowed a peek.
She turned me to the mirror; my hair was gorgeous! How?
Simple—everyone knew she styled my hair and if they thought she’d done that coloring, clientele would run.
‘Twas indeed a miracle.