The Haircut From the Golden Shears of God
Michele, my haircutter, is all about precision.
My hair is all about being very thick but also very fine, which means it globs up in clumps and does whatever it wants when I get a precision cut.
Today I got the jump on her.
We were at her house where I was doing some design work for her.
Afterwards, I somehow cajoled her into giving me a haircut right then and there, with household scissors, under a bathtowel, on a chair in her dining room.
I asked for an animal cut- which is basically all different lengths, with spikes if I use the right products.
I told her to go as fast as she could and to cut hunks out of it if she wanted. I just wanted her to go crazy like never before. I even drew a strand of hair and erased gouges in it so she'd know how deep I wanted her to cut in the angles.
I now have the perfect haircut.
For nearly 20 years I have asked for this cut but she always had to be soooo precise.
Ha. Even she was amazed by the sheer fabulousness of it.
The end of even the briefest sordid affair should be commemorated with a great haircut.
It just screams, "I look a lot better now, without you in my life."
Yes, as a matter of fact, I am going out tonight.
No, I do not have a date, I have a wingman. A straight chick wingman to be precise, one who just got a new boyfriend, which removes all competition.
And tomorrow night, more of the same but with a different wingman.
They say the best way to get over a bad lover is to get under a new one.
Though I find that advice rather superficial, from a strictly scientific perspective there is something to be said for removing the last vestiges of someone's bad DNA with someone nice's good, new DNA.
And if you knew me, you'd know– I am all about the science.