Close Encounter of the Barbie Kind

I made the mistake of not closely cropping my hair before I left for Germany. So by the end of the month I was sporting unusually long hair.
Not wanting to be categorized as a hippy, I decided to visit the hair cutting saloon. To my surprise all the barbers were young women. Flabbergasted I asked for a quick haircut since it was still office hours.
The person in charge, a short bubbly woman, said something in a torrent of German which I could hardly discern. She waved her hands about, gesticulated, but to no avail. I could not understand what she was trying to explain to me with so much urgency.
At last she took out a notebook and showed it to me, turning the pages.
I understood that it was some kind of appointment book and that they were booked for the whole week.
I could not risk going out again on office hours again so I said "Samstag! Samstag?" Samstag means Saturday in German, one of those few words I picked up in my first month there.
She agreed and gave me an appointment for afternoon on Saturday.
Dutifully I reached the marketplace where the saloon was located, on the appointed day .
A stunning slim blonde girl showed me my seat. She looked just like a life-size version of a Barbie doll or one of those cute girls in animated action movies, complete with tight fitting jeans, a sleeveless jacket over a low cut T-shirt, hair cutting tools in a waist belt. I guess she was chosen to cut my hair because she knew at least a few bits of English.
She then asked me in broken English to what length I wanted my hair cut .
I gestured with my fingers.
It was a regular hair cut except for the fact that she never used the comb. She delicately took each tuft of my hair, measured it with her fingers and snipped it to size. I knew it must have been exhausting because she took a fifteen minute break in between the hour it took to get the task done.
When she finished and done I was 18 Euros(900 Rupees) poorer!