No, REALLY, I am not an idiot!

Today I went to get my haircut. you know, just a little trim.

I went to the same place I have always gone, but in a much more educated fashion.

No, I do not want cream. No, I don't want a massage. No, I don't want any of the extras. Just cut my hair.

This not only cuts the cost, but it makes everything a lot easier.

Cut and dry, no problem.

However, my sleep deprivation appears to prove a problem in terms of my conversational skills. Every time I come back, Carolina, my hairdresser, compliments me on how me on how my Spanish is improving.

That is kind of her.

Usually when we are talking, she is cutting hair, there is a hairdryer going off, she is blow drying my hair, or I am marveling at the other interesting hair-do's that are being created all around me and I am completely distracted.

There is usually repeating involved. 

However, today was a banner day. We were chatting it up about vacations, weather, magazines (Explaining the meaning of InTouch) and talking about these oil dispensing brushes. 

 As she was drying my hair, I thought back to my conversation the other day at the pool, where I insisted that my hair was brown while my friends decided that it was black. I decide to relay this conversation to my buddy Carolina,  but instead of saying 

"Do you think my hair is brown?", I say "Do you think my hair is purple?" Insert laughter here.

Yup, I'm pretty sure Carolina thought I had to have been talking about nail polish or my shirt or something, but no. Immediately after I said morado instead of marron, I look at her to see if she caught what I said. Sometimes I think she doesn't always hear my stream-of-conscious Spanish rumblings. She apparently did this time, so I correct myself. She then comments, I thought you said your hair was purple, like a violet color. I laughed and said, "Well maybe I did!" I then explain that I am really tired and I have no explanation at all for my error. Just that I am really cool.

At this point we are almost finished with my haircut and I get up to go pay at the register. I am still laughing about my color confusion, and I decide to tell the people at the desk that I am laughing at myself, not at them. They do not think its funny that I said my hair was purple.

Their loss.

I go to pay, and the chick rings me up for 40 something euros. I tell her I qualify for the "Pack Joven"(BIG discount) and she looks at me with an eyebrow raised. She changes the price while I wait patiently with my credit card and DNI. Once she tells me the new total, I pass my cards over to her. She looks at my DNI and starts arguing with me that I am 24 not 23. The "Joven" expires when you turn 24.

After my hair-color  blunder, I started doubting my own age for a moment, but then I realize that I am indeed 23. I am 23 for another few months, thats for sure.

I tell again, forcefully, that I am still 23. My birthday is in August.  August 21. I am very familiar with my numbers in Spanish, so I have no problem repeating that several times. She tells me that she was born in 1986 and that she is 23, and that I am one year older than her so I must be 24. WRONG!

I pull out 3 of my IDs as the conversation drags on. Nearly 10 minutes later, she admits her error and gives me the discount. The other chick who was standing at the register was just looking at me, probably surprised I knew how old I was after calling my hair purple.

Moral of the story. Although I am a foreigner, and I apparently say my hair is purple, I am not a complete idiot. This Spanish chick decides that I must be if I think my hair is purple, but she has to give me some credit, at least I know how old I am.