The Worst Haircut Ever - A Follow-Up

So, if you've read my last blog, you already know that Bruce bought me a gift certificate to a salon in Allston (which shall remain nameless).

Throughout my life, I've randomly decided to chop my hair off. I never plan this. I walk into a salon and tell them, "Uh....just cut it all off. But make it cute if you can." I just get so sick of it. It's hot and high maintenance and annoying.

So, I get the gift certificate and go down to get a cut. I decide at the last minute to cut it all off, again. The man cutting my hair speaks very little English and, I think, assumes I'm a butch lesbian for whatever reason. He gives me a boy's cut. Not at all flattering and really, quite crude. I just sat there loving it. Like I said before, I was going through "the plan is to have no plan" phase, and I figured I would deal with the consequences of his butchery later. I reasoned, "Well, what am I gonna do now? Paste the hair back on?"

He offered to put a bit, A BIT, of orange hair goop into my hair. I was like, well, we've come this far, you might as well go for it. He put it in. It was supposed to provide colored streaks throughout my hair but you could barely see it. He decided I needed more. I just laughed as he started pouring this gel onto my head. It was just too funny to do anything else.

Soon, my head was this slick, spikey, bright orange mass that I was ashamed to say belonged to me. The gel man was laughing his face off, trying to make me look....like I don't know what. An asshole?

I paid for the haircut, laughing hysterically the entire time and as I walked home to my apartment. I had no idea what had just happened. I went straight to the shower and watched the water run down my body, bright orange, until it ran clear.

I got out of the shower, and though I was now orange gel free, I was stuck with this ridiculous haircut.

Well, what are you gonna do?