I usually wait until my hair is flopping into my eyes and my coiffe displays unattractive ducks tails, before I decide to go for a haircut. When I blow dry my hair, all kinds of strange bumps and waves appear. I keep it short so that it is easy and quick to manage. When I notice that there are grays appearing, I slap on some hair colour. I wash it very frequently with whatever shampoo is on my bathroom shelf. In short, I don’t bother much with it.

Hair care is a sound business venture. You can’t cut your own hair, can you? It persists in growing all the time so you have to trim it frequently. I don’t lavish love and attention on my hair, but certain ladies, I’ve noticed in disbelief, spend the entire day at the salon, judging by their bills.

Relaxing, colouring, perming, highlighting, oil massaging and lots of other treatments are quoted to justify the gigantic figure. The things we do to look good! Nowadays, young people look like they have stood in front of an industrial fan or faced a tornado, but I’m told it’s a carefully contrived effort. Once we find a suitable stylist, we tend to stick to the same person. So he/she is an essential part of your life.

I suppose someone wielding such a sharp weapon like a pair of scissors in the close proximity of your head and eyes is in a position of power anyway. You are totally at their mercy.

Just imagine, if you were a hairdresser and someone you detest comes in as your client. What a golden opportunity to vent! You can either give her a horrendous cut or you can make her totally bald — Oops! Soreee, my hand just slipped.

And you can accidentally snip at her ear! Or you can give her lime green neon streaks in her hair or just colour the whole thing bright orange! Doesn’t that sound like great fun? Or how about sticking her under the dryer on high for a couple of hours just to broil her up? But that might be the end of your job. Your boss won’t be amused. Dream on!

Invariably you hear the hottest gossip and encounter a varied segment of the populace. Like this gay guy who keeps talking about "That b…..! who comes from the back streets!" Then the local British resident who loudly proclaimed that she washes her hair only once a week there, as there is no time there to do it! Ugh!

Also present, the publicist lady who asked some young, attractive stylists to come and do a trial for an ad. "It’s a fun thing, darling! Please bring a photo of yourself smiling tomorrow okay?" Possibly the others would have felt slighted as it implied they weren’t attractive enough. Let’s hope it was being done during their days off!

Another time, this very distinguished client arrived unannounced, and the guy cutting my hair left me with one side uncut and rushed off to do her hair! I was outraged but I didn’t want to create a scene because I heard her very clearly tell this guy that she would wait until he finished. So I had to sit with one long and one short side until someone else was free to cut me. That was the last time I patronised his salon. She probably didn’t even pay anyway! Huh!

The young stylists all look so glamorous, their hair, makeup and nails are impeccable and their clothes are so trendy yet tres chic. It’s an exhausting job on your feet all day, your meal times are irregular since you have to please every picky client and get it just so.

The trainees have an endless amount of sweeping to do, making gallons of coffee and dealing with lots of damp towels and capes. You have to keep smiling even if you are in a vile mood and engage in chitchat with your client. But avoid conversations that go like this, "You know, when you first sat down, I thought... Wow, she has a lot of hair. But then I realised your head’s just big!"

Or you can follow Olga, the Russian hairstylist, who intercepted a robber. She had a yellow belt in karate, so she subdued him, tied him up, and threatened to hand him over to the police unless he complied with her demands. So she fed him Viagra and had sex with him for three days before releasing him!