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Exercise # 6 from Old Friend from Far Away
Of course, it was just before Freshman year that my hair had to take the hit for me. That, and the cajoling of a dear friend who knew of my impetus for spontaneity. "Let's get your hair styled," she'd said. As harmless a word as any, styled didn't mean cut, it meant a small change, a cool beginning.
Later I would come to realized "Let's get your hair styled" also meant, let's not touch mine.
My dear friend and her perfect shoulder length dishwater blond and high, flat wall of bangs was not one to fall victim to the shears. It would be me and an unceasing hunger for change.
So there at the end of summer, my butt plopped down in a chair at Cost Cutters and I pointed to a picture in a magazine. The stylist must have thought I had a sense of humor. Maybe she thought she'd help show off my over-sized spectacles and shiny braces. Whatever she was thinking, it was not about giving me the style I'd asked for. It was about butchery.
Those were not bangs, they were spikes. Those were not layers, it was a mullet. Going into high school just got that much better. I couldn't wait to find my locker in Dirt-ball Hall.
28? No Way! Happy World Prematurity Day
5 years ago
Great story. Made me giggle and shiver with similar memories from long ago.
ReplyDeleteYikes! Nice post, this also brings back similar memories. I wonder, were you mad at your friend for not getting her hair done too, and did you get actually get teased about your hair from your classmates?
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping and leaving a note everybody!
ReplyDeleteSweepy, I didn't blame my friend,it was just one of those things. But I've never stepped foot inside a Cost Cutters since. And I didn't get teased about it, I mean, we had all just come out the safe end of middle school. The teasing was finally wearing off ;)
good story! seems you have a knack for it ;)
ReplyDeleteWhew! Didn't know if I'd pass your grade ;) Thanks for stoppin' in!
ReplyDeletehaha! no problem :) and of course you'd pass!
ReplyDelete