These are the two pictures I showed my new hairdresser, David Dollar (real name). And guess what? He matched it. To a T. I've never had a hairdresser work as hard as this man to get everything absolutely perfect based off a picture. My hair was about two inches passed my shoulders when Roomie and I walked into his little cubbie of a salon, my hair up in a curled ponytail. David had a modern mullet, which is long and spiked up top, shaved on the sides, and a little long in the back. But you don't really notice it's a mullet because it's just too cool. And I was relieved he had wacky hair of his own because that meant he knew how to do even wackier hair. "She came to watch me chop my hair," I told him. "Like, four people wanted to come watch me chop my hair but I was like, Not with that attitude." And, "I have thin hair so when it's long it just sits there and I'm just over it." "So how short are we cutting it?" he asked. I had brought my laptop with the pictures and opened it up and showed him. "...So short-short. Alright, cool. Take a seat." And so it began with some radio tunes to accompany us and relax us.
He shampooed my entire head first, spending about 5 whole minutes giving my head the best message of its life. Then I returned to the mirror and Roomie leaned forward and said, "This is it! Say goodbye to your hair." David took the little silver scissors, twisted a lock of hair at the very back of my head, and snipped off a good 3 inches. "Oh my God," I snickered. The sensation was tingly on my head from so many chunks of hair getting cut. The shorter it got, the more I liked it. He worked at the back for a good 10 minutes before finally moving to the right side of my head, then the left, then the front. "I'm gonna cut the rest dry," he said. So he blow-dried my head in the odd stage that it was: thin, long strands on the left side, long bangs in my face, short on the right and in the back. The bangs had a cute little flip at the edge when they were dry. Because I have wavy hair (he thought it'd be straight), he had to go through and straighten my whole head so he could see the lines and the shape.
David worked more tediously in the back this time. Then the hardest part was the hair by my ears. His scissors actually snipped the top of my left ear but it wasn't cut. A few minutes later he was like, "I've never cut someone's ear before, I promise! Your friend was distracting me!" Haha! "You have fine hair," he told me, "but there's a lot of it. Especially by your ears. It's everywhere." This was good news to me since I'd always thought I had less hair than others. I had to hold down my ears so he could snip around them with a comb. He even broke out the little black buzzer I see used on guys all the time! "It feels like an angry bug by my ear!" I squealed. It tickled terribly.
A little over an hour in, I told Roomie she didn't have to stay because if it took 20 minutes to cut the right side it'd take the same about of time for the left. "I'm staying for the whole thing," she told me. "She's staying for the ride," David said.
After 40 more minutes, David was finally finishing up, spraying all kids of products on it and rubbing it with his hands. It was perfect. I stood up and took out my wallet, knowing it was $45, but I gave him the entire $60 and asked if he wanted some sushi from Kabuki because that's where Roomie and I were headed. He declined and gave Roomie and I big hugs as we left, saying he'd text me about coloring my hair in. Right as we stepped out, the black woman in the salon-cubbie across from us said, "I love your haircut!"
Look and friendship accomplished.
The first person to see it was Panda, who met us at Kabuki and I heard him say, "It's adorable!" before he even sat down. The second person was Roomie2, now that she was finally back from vacation. Roomie and I walked in and she looked over Roomie's shoulder and gasped. "Your hair!!" she screamed. "Oh my gawd, it's awesome!! You look older! You're making me want to get that cut!" The third person to see was Spike, who was totally and utterly against this haircut with every fiber of his being. He knocked on the door and I answered and I saw his face go into slight shock. Twice. I sat back down at the counter with my laptop and he was being more friendly than he had the last few days. Later that night, Roomie was chatting online with him and I asked her to ask him if he liked my haircut (since he didn't say a word about it) and he wrote back, "It's not he worst thing ever." Conversion accomplished! The fourth person to somewhat see it was Friend, though I was lying in bed and it was dark and she only saw the back of my head, but she whispered, "Pixie head!" to me. I don't mind that nickname.
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