Haircut for 2

For the first time in a dog’s age, Betty & I are both getting haircuts tomorrow. Maybe I’ll post photos. Maybe I won’t. I’m sure we’ll look – oh, exactly the same as ever. Pretty much.

So does anyone else have horror haircut dreams? They’re not always horrible; sometimes they’re just weird. Where you dream that you did something really insane to your hair, & you have to go out somewhere important, like to your sister’s wedding, & your hair is insane? Is it a chick thing? Or a former punkrocker thing? I’ve definitely had hair disasters, where I bleached/dyed it too many times & it all just started breaking off, or, alternately, where it turned this really bizarre, unnatural color – like orange caramel, or a weird greenish brown – where the only answer was to cut most of it off & dye it a dark color. (Thus, once resulting in what Betty refers to as my “Harry Potter phase.”)

I’m sure tomorrow will be fine, though. The same lady’s cut my hair the past couple of years, & there will be no bleach or dye involved.

3 Replies to “Haircut for 2”

  1. I don’t have haircut dreams, probably because my hair’s been mostly the same for decades. A bit longer, a bit shorter; bangs, no bangs; gradually going from blonde to mouse-brown. But nothing exciting. So I don’t think it’s a chick thing so much as a someone-who’s-done-wacky-things-with-their-hair thing.

    I would like to dye mine lighter but I’m scared it will turn orange or fall out. Yet I have friends who have different color hair every time I see them, and theirs doesn’t fall out. Hmm.

    “Harry Potter phase,” excellent.

  2. I happened to be spending the winter in the Bahamas, and decided that I needed a haircut. The “tourist” hairdresser was on vacation, so I decided to take a walk through downtown Marsh Harbor to see if anything else was available. I spotted a slightly ratty barbershop, and decided to give it a shot. The place was pretty ratty, and I was the only white dude there, with most of the clients sporting dreadlocks. After sitting in the chair, the barber proceeded to cut my hair in one minute. I swear to God. One minute to the second.

    I was mortified, and assumed that I was going to look like a mangy dog. When I retrieved my glasses and looked in the mirror, I was amazed to see that I looked pretty decent. Everyone for the next six months complemented me on my haircut. Maybe I should start trying to cultivate the Bob Marley look, mon!

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