Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

(another cartoon title reference!)

Jeez, last weekend was hot. Around 105 in some areas, and dry enough to cure jerky.

it was time for a haircut, in my humble opinion. My hair grows like wildfire if kept unchecked. I think it's either a trait within my family or an odd chromosome defect. I cut my own hair for two reasons: I'm cheap, $20 bucks for a haircut that would take all of 10 minutes and 12 snips is a crime! They should charge by the minute or weight of hair removed. And, being artistic, I can do it myself quite well, usually. I've even cut other peoples hair. After all, it's just sculpting with a sharp device.

Anyway, it was an exceedingly hot day, and my hair was in need of a good bitch slapping. I was so exhausted from the heat sapping my energy and my various illnesses (work being one ;), I stumble into the bathroom and get my haircutting gear out.

CAUTION: CHILDREN, DO NOT ALTER YOUR APPEARANCE IF DROWSY!

I thought I'd start from the side with the thinning attachment on the electric cutter. One arm move late, I felt a lot cooler! Then my mind seizes up and literally shocks me fully awake as my eyes spot something on the counter top: the thinning attachment. I look at the electric shears and see a bare blade with quite a lot of hair about the edge. So I swallow a huge psychsomatic lump, and look in the mirror...and find that the side of my head is a two inch racing stripe of bare white skin framed by dark brown hair. I look liked someone took some duck tape and ripped a section of hair off of my head.

In mere microseconds, my mind races from perhaps reapplying the hair back in with a hot glue gun, to using a black magic marker. All stupid ideas. And I feel even more stupid for not being more alert. And I double that feeling by reminding myself, i've actually done this exact thing before, just not this bad. Man, my head feels weird...

So, I call Kim to come down to try to "fix" it. I don't know how you can "fix" the absence of hair, but i'll try anything right now. And she owes me, as I cut off 10 inches of her hair to send to cancer children, and then fixed the length afterword. I did an artistically masterful job, an absolutely no one noticed! It also helped she had about a yards worth of hair to begin with.

So she arrives, and I sort of hide the side of my head to her. She askes if I can turn my head so she can see. I first make her promise NOT to laugh, and turn my head.

She's lousy with promises. And very loud when she brakes them.

I make her sit in another room untill she can control herself and catch her breath without the aid of an inhailer, while I stew angrily.

Twenty minutes later she reappears trying not to laugh and eyes watering. I send her off for another five.

Afterwards, Kims assessing my hair (thank god she can cut hair), and telling me stuff like, "Why did you do it?", "I can't beleive you did this again...", and "you should have checked the shaver before you used it". Gee, thanks. Lets get to the Wayback machine and try those theories out!

So, the only thing she could do to "fix it". was to go shorter and shave the sides. I guess I'm lucky I didn't first cut from ear to ear over the top. I actually like it now, as I haven't had my hair this short since I was 20. It was tricky though, as my head is a morass of scars from all the head traumas i've suffered over the years since childhood. I guess that explains a lot, huh?

And when I went back to work a few days later, most of the hair grew back in so I didn't look like I was assulted by a rogue barber gang at a busstop. It's quite nice, and no one really noticed other than I got a short haircut.

Except my dumbass assistant manager, the ear muffed bald pate Chris.

"Hey, Mike! Looks like you had you're hair cut! Now you look like me! he he..."

I winced at the comparison and stared back at him with a tired anger.

"No, we don't, Chris. My hair loss was an option..."