Getting her hair done for her birthday party had been a bad idea. Su Kuaihua realized this now. Shanghai hairdressers were meticulous and even the simplest job usually took up half the afternoon. It was half past seven in the evening already. She’d been there since noon.
She was so bored. She wished she’d brought along at least a magazine.
Lying back in her chair, with her hair being rinsed for the third time, she wondered if it would be acceptable to show up at the KTV venue with sopping wet hair, with only one side actually cut. Half of her hair was still bunched up on top of her head in an assortment of clips.
She imagined herself standing in front of her friends in their little rented karaoke room, microphone in hand, singing My Heart Will Go On in an exhausted, resigned voice, with sopping, messy hair and drippy mascara.
Very fitting, she realized. Very Titanic.