Her Hairdresser's Obsession With Pregnancy Made Her Cross A Line

"My hairdresser is just beginning her third trimester. She's been trying for a while to get pregnant, and finally succeeded. I'm happy for her, but it's well known in my circle that I want to remain child free. I lost my fiancé four years ago in a car accident and have since realized I don't want kids, and it will be a long time before I get into another relationship.

She has made small comments about me one day changing my mind before, but I guess her hormones have made her crazy because last week when I went for my cut and dye, she started talking about the pregnancy. She's one of those smug pregnant women (I am a goddess who can do no wrong!) but she's also having what I assume to be a difficult pregnancy or something because she is always too sick to go outside and in too much pain to walk and too emotional to, you know, function. For the record, I think most of this is for attention. Now usually I tune this out and have told her as much. I really don't care about her intimate problems and her loss of a sex drive thanks to her need to procreate. But somewhere in the middle of her pregnancy rant, she just started bawling.

If you have scissors by my head, please don't stand there crying trying to cut.

I asked what was wrong and she sobbed for a minute before straightening up and saying, 'I'm sorry, it just kills me that you'll never feel this sense of completion in your life! Jay died and you didn't try for custody of his son (who has a healthy, happy mother who I would never take him from). Ever since I found out she was growing in me, I've turned into a mom!'

I stayed silent, but it was pretty difficult. She kept going. 'I guess some people are okay with that empty feeling but I just want more out of life.' It was at this moment I reached into my purse, where I happened to have a mini bottle of wine.

I said, 'What empty feeling?' opened it, chugged the whole thing, grabbed a cigarette, and walked outside (with a head full of bleach). I smoked, making sure to show my enjoyment of the nicotine; I'm not even a heavy smoker, but she was before baby time. I came back in to find her glaring at me. 'I'm allergic to the smell of cigarettes when I'm pregnant. Ashley can rinse you.' So we rinsed, I chatted with the other employees, then sat down for a trim/style.

During the trim, she asked what my problem was. I explained that while I am happy for her, it's insulting to insensate that I'll never be happy because I don't want kids. She apologized and said she didn't mean anything by it, she's just noticed a change in herself and she can't understand why others wouldn't want to feel that. When I told her telling a widow to have kids is like telling a war vet to vacation in Iraq, she rolled her eyes. 'You'll get over him! It's been what, four years? That's SO long!' I was shaking with rage by this.

I said, 'Can we please just not talk anymore?' So she shut up to me, but turned around and complained to her fellow stylists about all the things she can't do while pregnant and how much she misses it.

It was at this point I whipped out my phone and ordered sushi to the salon (I had at least another half hour there). She blabbed on and on and on about her little parasite and how perfect she's gonna be and how she just feels made for motherhood while all the old ladies in the shop just agreed and fed her ego. Right as we finished, my raw fish showed up, caviar and all. I opened it right in front of her and took a huge bite. 'That's so mean. Why would you do all that if you know I can't be around it?'

'Sorry, did it leave you with an inescapable sense of emptiness? Because your baby can fill that loss for you.'

I found a new hairdresser after that."